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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


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Scifflices 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STRieT 

WEBSTER  N.Y.  14580 

7:4)  •72-4503 


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^^^^"^ 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


The  Institute  has  attempted  to  obtain  the  best 
original  copy  available  for  filming.  Features  of  this 
copy  which  may  be  bibliographically  unique, 
which  may  alter  any  of  the  images  in  the 
reproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  change 
the  usual  method  of  filming,  are  checked  below. 


n 


n 


D 


D 
D 


D 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
Couverture  de  couleur 


I      I    Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  endommagde 

Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurde  et/ou  pellicuide 


I      I    Cover  title  missing/ 


Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

Coloured  maps/ 

Cartes  gdographiques  en  couleur 


□    Coloured  inic  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  biacit)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 

I      I   Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 


Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

Bound  with  other  material/ 
Reli6  avec  d'autres  documents 

Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  re  liure  serr6e  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  intirieure 

Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajout^es 
lors  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  6tait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  6t6  filmies. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  suppldmentaires; 


L'Institut  a  microfilm^  le  meilieur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  6t6  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  d6tails 
de  cet  exemplaire  qui  sont  peut-Atre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographique,  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  una 
modification  dans  la  mdthode  normale  de  filmage 
sont  indiquis  ci-dessous. 


I      I   Coloured  pages/ 


D 


y 


y 


D 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  film6  au  taux  de  reduction  indiqu*  ci-dessous. 


Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagdes 


n    Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Pages  restaurdes  et/ou  peilicui^es 


Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  ddcoiordes.  tachet^es  ou  piqudes 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  d^tachdes 


r~71    Showthrough/ 


Transparence 

Quality  of  print  varies/ 
Quality  indgaie  de  I'impression 

Includes  supplementary  material/ 
Comprend  du  materiel  suppldmentaire 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 


T^ 
to 


pe 
of 
fill 


Or 
be 

th( 
I'c 

OtI 

fin 
sio 
or 


Th 
shi 

Tir 

wh 

Ml 

dif 
enj 
be 
rig 
re< 
m€ 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc.,  have  been  ref limed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partiellement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata.  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  6t6  film^es  A  nouveau  de  fapon  d 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

26X 

30X 

• 

12X 

16X 

20X 

24X 

28X 

32X 

Th«  copy  filmad  h«r«  has  b««n  r«pro(^uc«d  thank* 
to  th*  9*norosity  of: 

Library  Division 

Provincial  Archives  of  British  Columbia 


L'oxamplair*  filmA  f ut  raproduit  grAca  k  la 
aAnArotit*  da: 

Library  Division 

Provincial  Archives  of  British  Columbia 


Tha  imagat  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  bast  quality 
possibia  considaring  tha  condition  and  lagibility 
of  tha  original  copy  and  in  kaaping  with  tha 
filming  contract  spacifications. 


Las  imagas  suivantas  ont  AtA  raproduitas  avac  la 
plus  grand  soin.  compta  tanu  da  la  condition  at 
da  la  nattatA  da  I'axamplaira  filmA.  at  an 
conformitA  avac  las  conditions  du  contrat  da 
filmaga. 


Original  copias  in  printad  papar  covers  ara  filmad 
beginning  with  tha  front  covar  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printad  or  illustrated  impres- 
1  on.  or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printad  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printad 
or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  ^»>  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  ▼  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  ia  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimAe  sont  filmAs  en  commenpant 
par  la  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
derniAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration.  soit  par  la  second 
plat,  selon  le  cas.  Tous  las  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  filmAs  en  commenpant  par  la 
premiAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  derniAre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparattra  sur  la 
derniAre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — ►  signifie  "A  SUIVRE  ",  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc..  peuvent  Atre 
filmAs  A  des  taux  de  rAduction  diff Arents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  clichA.  il  est  filmA  A  partir 
de  Tangle  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  A  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas.  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  nAcessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mAthode. 


1 

2 

3 

12  3 

4  5  6 


x.l 


THE  EXULTANT  INDIANS   MUTILATE  THE  DEAD  BODY. 


Wonderful  Adventures, 


A    SERIES    OF    NARRATIVES 


OF 


PERSONAL    EXPERIENCES 


AMONG    THE 


NATIVE    TRIBES     OF    AMERICA. 


WxWx  $m^-i\u  mn\x^\m\%. 


SECOND  EDITION. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

J.    B.    LIPPINCOTT    &    CO. 

1874. 


'• ' 


f;'  - 


,V»  .t    4 


'.J^' 


r**- 


CONTENTS. 


-  -♦■ 


Passage  of  the  Great  Canon  of  the  Colorado 
TiiN  Days'  Journey  in  Southern  Arizona 


Under  the  Snow 


J    In  Pawn  in  an  Indian  Village  . 


• 


A  Zigzag  Journey  through  Mexico  .        . 


•        • 


TACH 
I 

25 
60 


Frontier  Adventures  in  the  Argentine  RErunLic        .      77 


.     118     i 


,    A  Doctor's  Life  among  the  North-American  Indians  .     192 


215 


Pacific  N.  W.  History  Dept 

PROVINCIAL  LIBRARY 
VICTORIA,  a,  C. 


^fj 


"^119 


Wonderful  Adventures. 


PASSAGE  OF  THE  GREAT  Cnf^ON  OF  THE 

COLORADO. 


By  Major  A.  R.  Calhoun. 

TiiF.  Rio  Colorado  of  the  West  rises  in  Idalio  territory, 
near  the  centre  of  the  North  American  continent,  and  flows, 
with  an  irregular  course,  towards  the  soiitli,  finally  dis- 
charging itself  in  the  Gulf  of  California.  It  drains  the 
great  elevated  plateau  basin  lying  between  the  Rocky 
Mountains  and  the  Sierra  Nevada,  south  o(  latitude  40°. 
The  mountain  ranges  east  and  west  of  the  plains  intercept 
all  the  moisture  drifted  towards  them  from  the  Atlantic  and 
the  Pacific  Oceans,  so  that  the  peak-covered  plateau  is 
comparatively  arid,  save  where  the  snow-fed  streams  cleave 
their  way  through  it.  As  they  cross  this  elevated  region, 
the  beds  of  the  various  rivers  gradually  deejjen,  and  the 
water  flows  through  canons,*  or  narrow  ravines,  till  they  join 
that  stupendous  chasm,  the  Valley  01  the  Colorado,  where 
the  river,  for  Coo  miles,  flows  in  a  bed   depressed  on  an 

•  This  word   is  derived  from   the    Spanish,   and  signifies  a  deep  gorge   with 
perpendicular  walls. 

B  2 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


average  3,000  feet  below  the  general  surface  of  the  country. 
The  plains  stretching  on  either  hand  from  the  surface  of  the 
chasms  show  decided  indications  of  erosion,  leading  to  the 
belief  that  the  waters  of  the  Colorado  and  its  tributaries 
once  flowed,  as  most  other  rivers  do,  over  the  surface  of  the 
country,  fertilising  the  now  dry  expanse,  and  that  they  have 
gradually  worn  their  way  down  to  the  depth  at  which  they 
now  run.  The  Great  Canon  of  this  river  is  a  narrow  wind- 
ing part  of  the  chasm,  where  the  waters  seem  to  disappear 
in  the  bowels  of  the  earth,  for  a  distance  of  more  than  300 
miles. 

After  leaving  the  Great  Canon,  the  Colorado  Hows  south 
for  nearly  600  miles,  to  the  gulf,  receiving  during  that 
distance  but  two  small  tributaries,  the  "  Bill  Williams  "  and 
the  Gila.  Occasionally  the  gravelly  mesas ^  or  perpen- 
dicular water-worn  walls  of  rock,  devoid  of  vegetation, 
infringe  on  the  river,  leaving  no  bottom  land;  but  for-the 
greater  part  of  the  distance  above  stated  the  alluvial  bottom 
spreads  out  into  valleys,  varying  from  four  to  twenty  miles 
,  in  width,  bordered  by  these  precipices.  The  bed  of  the 
river,  where  not  confined  by  rocky  banks,  is  continually 
shifting,  thus  rendering  navigation  difficult,  and  frec^uently 
washing  over,  or  through,  the  best  portions  of  the  valleys. 
The  water,  as  the  name  "  Colorado  "  indicates,  is  red,  owing 
to  the  large  quantities  of  protoxide  of  iron  which  it  holds 
in  solution.  The  immense  amount  of  debris  carried  down 
annually  to  the  Gulf  of  California,  and  de])Osited  in  the 
delta  of  the  river,  is  having  a  perceptible  effect  in  silting 
up  the  head  of  the  gulf;  indeed,  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  at  no  very  distant  day  the  gulf  extended  to  Fort  Yuma, 
now  thirty  miles  inland.  North  of  Fort  Yuma  the  valley 
on  the  other  side  of  the  river  is  bounded  by  serrated  hills 


THE   GREAT   CANON   OF   THE   COLORADO. 


and  mountains,  of  the  most  fantastic  shapes,  devoid  of 
vegetation,  save  an  occasional  cactus.  The  whole  land- 
scape has  a  wild,  weird  appearance,  heightened  by  the  clear, 
dry  atmosphere,  through  which  objects  that  would  not  be 
perceptible  at  such  a  distance  in  moister  climates,  here 
stand  out  with  a  wonderful  distinctness. 

Twenty  years  ago  the  trapper  and  the  hunter  were  the 
romantic  characters  of  the  Far  West.  They  still  figure  in 
fiction,  and  there  is  a  fascination  about  their  daring  deeds 
which  is  scarcely  undeserved.  They  have  trapped  on  every 
western  stream  and  hunted  on  every  mountain-side,  despite 
the  opposition  of  the  Indian  and  the  barrier  of  winter 
snows.  They  have  formed  the  skirmish  line  of  the  great 
army  of  occupation  which  is  daily  pushing  westward,  and 
they  have  taught  the  savage  to  respect  the  white  man's 
courage  and  to  fear  the  white  man's  powf.T. 
•"  While  the  field  for  the  trapper  and  hunter  has  been 
gradually  growing  less,  another  class  of  adventurers  has  come 
into  existence — the  '*  prospecters "  in  search  of  precious 
metals.  Within  the  last  quarter  of  a  century  these  men  have 
traversed  every  mountain  slope,  from  the  rugged  peaks  of 
British  Columbia  to  the  rich  plateaux  of  Old  Mexico,  and 
have  searched  the  sands  of  every  stream  from  the  Mississippi 
to  the  shores  of  the  Pacific,  stimulated  by  the  same  hope  of 
reward  that  led  the  early  Spaniards  to  explore  inhospitable 
wilds  in  their  search  for  an  "  El  Dorado."  Could  the  varied 
and  adventurous  experience  of  these  searchers  for  gold  be 
written,  '/e  should  have  a  record  of  daring  and  peril  that  no 
fiction  could  approach,  and  the  very  sight  of  gold  would 
suggest  to  our  minds  son.e  story  of  hairbreadth  escape. 

It  has  fallen  to  the  lot  of  one  of  these  "  prospecters  "  to 
be  the  hero  of  an  adventure  more  thrilling  than  any  here- 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


tofore  recorded,  while  at  the  same  time  he  has  solved  a 
geographical  problem  which  has  long  attracted  the  attention 
of  the  learned  at  home  and  abroad,  who  could  but  theorise, 
before  his  journey,  as  to  the  length  and  nature  of  the 
stupendous  chasms,  or  canons,  through  which  the  Colorado 
cleaves  its  central  course.  While  on  the  survey  before 
referred  to,  and  while  stopping  for  a  few  days  at  Fort 
Mojave,  Dr.  W.  A.  Bell,  Dr.  C.  C.  Parry,  and  myself,  met 
this  man,  whose  name  is  James  White,  and  from  his  lips,  the 
only  living  man  who  had  actually  traversed  its  formidable 
depths,  we  learned  the  story  of  the  Great  Caiion. 

James  White  now  lives  at  Callville,  Arizona  territory, 
the  present  head  of  navigation  on  the  Colorado  River.  He 
is  thirty-two  years  of  age,  and  in  person  is  a  good  type  of 
the  Saxon,  being  of  medium  height  and  heavy  b'  'Id,  with 
light  hair  and  blue  eyes.  He  is  a  man  of.  average  intel- 
ligence, simple  and  unassuming  in  his  manner  and  address, 
and  without  any  of  the  swagger  or  bravado  peculiar  to  the 
majority  of  frontier  men.  Like  thousands  of  our  young  men, 
well  enough  off  at  home,  he  grew  weary  of  the  slow  but 
certain  method  of  earning  his  bread  by  regular  employment 
at  a  stated  salary.  He  had  heard  of  men  leaping  into  wealth 
at  a  single  bound  in  the  Western  gold-fields,  and  for  years 
he  yearned  to  go  to  the  land  where  Fortune  was  so  lavish  of 
her  favours.  Accordingly,  he  readily  consented  to  be  one  of 
a  party  from  his  neighbourhood  who,  in  the  spring  of  1867, 
started  for  the  plains  and  the  gold-fields  beyond.  When 
they  left  Fort  Dodger,  on  the  Arkansas  River,  April  13th, 
1867,  the  party  consisted  of  four  men,  of  whom  Captain 
Baker,  an  old  miner  and  ex-officer  of  the  Confederate  army, 
was  the  acknowledged  leader.  The  destination  of  this  little 
party  was  the  San  Juan  Valley,  west  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 


I 


APPKOACH  TO  THE  GKEAT  CAJION 


i 


1  I 


■H 


THE  GREAT  CANON  OF  THE  COLORADO. 


tains,  about  the  gold-fields  of  which  prospecters  spoke  in 
the  most  extravagant  terms,  stating  that  they  were  de- 
terred from  working  the  rich  />/t7cers  of  the  San  Juan  only  by 
fear  of  the  Indians.  Baker  and  his  companions  reached 
Colorado  "  city,"  at  the  foot  of  Pike's  Peak,  in  safety.  This 
place  was,  and  is  still,  the  depot  for  supplying  the  miners 
who  work  the  diggings  scattered  through  the  South  Park, 
and  is  the  more  important  from  being  situated  at  the  en- 
trance to  the  Ute  Pass,  through  which  there  is  a  wagon- 
road  crossing  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  descending  to  the 
plateau  beyond.  The  people  of  Colorado  "  city  "  tried  to 
dissuade  Baker  from  what  they  considered  a  rash  project, 
but  he  was  determined  to  carry  out  his  original  plan.  These 
representations,  however,  affected  one  of  the  party  so  much 
that  he  left,  but  the  others.  Captain  Baker,  James  White,  and 
Henry  Strole,  completed  their  outfit  for  the  prospecting 
tour. 

The  journey  was  undertaken  on  foot,  with  two  pack- 
mules  to  carry  the  provisions,  mining  tools,  and  ti»c  blankets 
they  considered  necessary  for  the  expedition.  On  the  25th 
of  May  they  left  the  Colorado  city,  and  crossing  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  through  the  Ute  Pass,  entered  South  Park,  being 
still  on  the  Atlantic  slope  of  the  continent.  After  travelling 
ninety  miles  across  the  Park  they  reached  the  Upper 
Arkansas,  near  the  Twin  Lakes.  They  then  crossed  the 
Sr^wj  Range,  or  Sierra  Madre,  and  descended  towards  the 
west.  Turning  southerly,  they  passed  around  the  head 
waters  of  the  Rio  Grande  del  Norte,  and  after  a  journey  of 
400  miles  from  Colorado  "  city,"  they  reached  the  "  Animas '' 
branch  of  the  San  Juan  River,  which  flows  into  the  Great 
Colorado  from  the  east. 

They  were  now  in  the  land  where  their  hopes  centred, 


iw) 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


i 


'A- 


and  to  reach  which  they  had  crossed  plains  and  mountains, 
and  forded  rapid  streams,  leaving  the  nearest  abodes  of  the 
white  man  hundreds  of  miles  to  the  east.  Their  work  of 
prospecting  for  gold  began  in  the  Animas,  and  though  they 
were  partially  successful,  the  result  did  not  by  any  means 
answer  their  expectations.  They  therefore  moved  still  further 
to  the  west,  crossing  the  Dolores  branch  of  Grand  River  to 
the  Mancos  branch  of  the  San  Juan.  Following  the  Mancos 
to  its  mouth,  they  crossed  to  the  left  bank  of  the  San  Juan, 
and  began  their  search  in  the  sands.  There  was  gold  there, 
but  not  in  the  (quantity  they  expected  ;  so  they  gradually 
moved  west,  along  the  beautiful  valley  for  200  miles,  when 
tliey  found  the  San  Juan  disappeared  between  the  lofty  walls 
of  a  deep  and  gloomy  caiion.  To  avoid  this,  they  again 
forded  the  river  to  the  right  bank,  and  struck  across  a  rough, 
timbered  country,  directing  their  course  towards  the  great 
Colorado.  Having  travelled  through  this  rough  country  for 
a  distance  estimated  at  fifty  miles,  they  reached  Grand 
River,  being  still  above  the  junction  of  Green  River,  the 
united  waters  of  which  two  streams  form  the  Colorado 
jDroper.  At  the  point  where  they  struck  the  river,  the  banks 
were  masses  of  perpendicular  rock,  down  which  they  could 
gaze  at  the  coveted  water,  dashing  and  foaming  like  an 
agitated  white  band,  200  feet  below.  Men  and  animals 
were  now  suftering  for  water ;  so  they  pushed  up  the  stream, 
along  the  uneven  edge  of  the  chasm,  hoping  to  find  a  place 
where  they  could  descend  to  the  river.  After  a  day  spent 
in  clamliering  over  and  around  the  huge  rocks  that  impeded 
their  advance,  they  came  upon  a  side  canon,  where  a 
tributary  joined  the  main  stream,  to  which  they  succeeded 
in  descending  with  their  animals,  and  thus  obtained  the 
water  of  which  all  stood  so  much  in  need. 


THE   GREAT   CANON   OF   THE   COLORADO. 


I  I 


The  night  of  the  23rcl  of  August  they  encamped  at  the 
bottom  of  the  canon,  where  they  found  plenty  of  fuel,  and 
grass  in  abundance  for  their  animals.  So  ihey  sat  around 
the  camp-nre,  lamenting  their  failure  in  the  San  Juan 
country,  and  Strole  began  to  regret  that  they  had  undertaken 
the  expedition.  But  ]3aker,  who  was  a  brave,  sanguine 
fellow,  spoke  of  placers  up  the  river  about  which  he  had 
heard,  and  promised  his  companions  that  all  their  hopes 
should  be  realised,  and  that  they  would  return  to  their 
homes  to  enjoy  the  gains  and  laugh  at  the  trials  of  their  trip. 
So  glowingly  did  he  picture  the  future,  that  his  conii)anions 
even  speculated  as  to  how  they  should  spend  their  })rincely 
fortunes  when  they  returned  to  the  "  States."  Baker  sang 
songs  of  home  and  hope,  and  the  others  lent  their  voices  to 
the  chorus,  till  far  in  the  night,  when,  unguarded,  they  sank 
to  sleep,  to  dream  of  coming  opulence  and  to  rise  refreshed 
for  the  morrow's  journey. 

Early  next  morning  they  breakfasted,  and  began  the 
ascent  of  the  side  canon,  up  the  bank  opposite  to  that  by 
which  they  had  entered  it.  Baker  was  in  advance,  with  his 
rifle  slung  at  his  back,  gaily  springing  up  the  rocks,  towards 
the  table-land  above.  Behind  him  came  White,  and  Strole 
with  the  mules  brought  up  the  rear.  Nothing  disturbed  che 
stillness  of  the  beautiful  summer  morning,  but  the  tramping 
of  the  mules,  and  the  short,  heavy  breathing  of  the  climbers. 
They  had  ascended  al)out  half  the  distance  to  the  top,  when 
stopping  for  a  moment  to  rest,  suddenly  the  war-whooj)  of 
a  band  of  savages  rang  out,  sounding  as  if  every  rock 
had  a  demon's  voice.  Simultaneously  with  the  first  whoop 
a  shower  of  arrows  and  bullets  was  poured  into  the  little 
party.  With  the  first  fire  Baker  fell  against  a  rock,  but, 
rallying  for  a  moment,  he  unslung  his   rifle  and  fired  at 


: 


It 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


the  Indians,  who  now  began  to  show  themselves  in  large 
numbers,  and  then,  with  the  blood  flowing  from  his  mouth, 
he  fell  to  the  ground.  White,  firing  at  the  Indians  as  he 
advanced,  and  followed  by  Strole,  hurried  to  the  aid  of 
his  wounded  leader.  Baker,  with  an  effort,  turned  to  his 
comrades,  and  in  a  voice  still  strong,  said,  "  Back,  boys, 
back !  save  yourselves,  I  am  dying."  To  the  credit  of 
White  and  Strole  be  it  said,  they  faced  the  savages  and 
fought,  till  the  last  tremor  of  the  powerful  frame  told  that 
the  gallant  Baker  was  dead.  Then  slowly  they  began  to 
retreat,  followed  by  the  exultant  Indians,  who  stopping  to 
strip  and  mutilate  the  dead  body  in  their  path,  gave  the 
white  men  a  chance  to  secure  their  animals,  and  retrace 
their  steps  into  the  side  canon,  beyond  the  immediate  reach 
of  the  Indians*  arrows.  Here  they  held  a  hurried  con- 
sultation as  to  the  best  course  they  could  pursue.  To 
the  east  for  300  miles  stretched  an  uninhabited  country, 
over  which,  if  they  attempted  escape  in  that  direction,  the 
Indians,  like  bloodhounds,  would  follow  their  track.  North, 
south,  and  west  was  the  Colorado,  with  its  tributaries,  all 
flowing  at  the  bottom  of  deep  chasms,  across  which  it  would 
be  impossible  for  men  or  animals  to  travel.  Their  delibera- 
tions were  necessarily  shoi-.,  and  resulted  in  their  deciding 
to  abandon  their  animals,  first  securing  their  arms  and  a 
small  stock  of  provisions,  and  the  ropes  of  the  mules. 
Through  the  side  canon  they  travelled,  due  west,  for  four 
hours,  and  emerged  at  last  on  a  low  strip  of  bottom  land  on 
Grand  River,  above  which,  for  2,000  feet  on  either  bank, 
the  cold,  grey  walls  rose  to  block  their  path,  leaving  to  them 
but  one  avenue  for  escape — the  foaming  current  of  the 
river,  flowing  along  the  dark  channel  through  unknown 
dangers. 


% 


THE  GREAT  CANON  OF  THE  COLORADO. 


T3 


.J, 


They  found  considerable  quantities  of  drift-wood  along 
the  banks,  from  which  they  collected  enough  to  enable  them 
to  construct  a  raft  capable  of  floating  themselves,  with  their 
arms  and  provisions.  The  raft,  when  finished,  consisted  of 
three  sticks  of  cotton-wood,  about  ten  feet  in  length  and 
eight  inches  in  diameter,  lashed  firmly  together  with  the 
mule  ropes.  Procuring  two  stout  poles  with  which  to  guide 
the  raft,  and  fastening  the  bag  of  provisions  to  the  logs,  they 
V  aited  for  midnight  and  the  waning  moon,  so  as  to  drift  off 
unnoticed  by  the  Indians.  They  did  not  consider  that  jven 
the  sun  looked  down  into  that  chasm  for  but  one  short  hour 
in  the  twenty-four,  leaving  it  for  the  rest  of  the  day  to  the 
angry  waters  and  blackening  shadows,  and  that  the  faint 
moonlight  reaching  the  bottom  of  the  canon  would  hardly 
serve  to  reveal  the  horror  of  their  situation.  Midnight 
came,  according  to  their  calculation  of  the  dark,  dreary 
hours;  and  then,  seizing  the  poles,  they  untied  the  roi)e  that 
held  the  raft,  which,  tossed  about  by  the  current,  rushed 
through  the  yawning  canon,  on  the  adventurous  voyage  to 
an  unknown  landing.  Through  the  long  night  they  clung  to 
the  raft,  as  it  dashed  against  half-concealed  rocks,  or 
whirled  about  like  a  plaything  in  some  eddy,  whose  white 
foam  was  perceptible  even  in  the  intense  darkness. 

They  prayed  for  the  daylight,  which  came  at  last,  and 
with  it  a  smoother  current  and  less  rugged  banks,  though 
the  canon  walls  appeared  to  have  increased  in  height.  Early 
in  the  morning  (August  25th)  they  found  a  spot  where  they 
could  make  a  landing,  and  went  ashore.  After  eating  a 
little  of  thei^  water-soaked  provisions,  they  returned,  and 
strengthened  their  raft  by  the  addition  of  some  light  pieces  of 
cedar,  which  had  been  lodged  in  clefts  of  the  rock  by  recent 
floods.     White  estimates  the  width  of  the  river  where  they 


■fT 


' 


14 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


,i  I     & 


I 


I  1 

( 


n 


*-! 


i 


landed  at  200  yards,  and  the  current  at  three  miles  per  hour. 
After  a  short  stay  at  this  place  they  again  embarked,  and 
during  the  rest  of  the  day  they  liad  no  small  difficulty  in 
avoiding  the  rocks  and  whirlpools  that  met  them  at  every 
bend  of  the  river. 

In  the  afternoon,  and  after  having  floated  over  a  distance 
estimated  at  thirty  miles  from  the  point  of  starting,  they 
reached  the  mouth  of  Green  River,  or  rather  where  the 
Green  and  the  Grand  unite  to  form  the  Colorado  proper. 
Here  the  canons  of  both  streams  combined  into  one  of  but 
little  greater  width,  but  flir  surpassing  either  in  the  height, 
and  grandeur  of  its  walls.  At  the  junction  the  walls  were 
estimated  at  4,000  feet  in  height,  but  detached  pinnacles 
rose  1,000  feet  higher,  from  amidst  huge  masses  of  rock 
confusedly  piled,  like  grand  monuments  to  commemorate 
this  meeting  of  the  waters.  The  fugitives  felt  the  sublimity 
of  the  scene,  and  in  contemplating  its  stupendous  and  un- 
earthly grandeur,  they  forgot  for  the  time  their  own  sorrows. 

The  niglit  of  the  day  upon  which  they  entered  the  Great 
Canon,  and  indeed  on  nearly  all  the  subsequent  nights  of  the 
voyage,  the  raft  was  fastened  to  a  loose  rock,  or  hauled  up 
on  some  narrow  strip  of  beach,  where  they  rested  till  the 
daylight  of  next  morning. 

As  they  floated  down  the  canon,  the  grey  sandstone 
walls  increased  in  height,  the  lower  section  being  smooth 
from  the  action  of  floods,  and  the  rugged  perpendicular  walls 
rising  towards  the  far-off  sky,  which  seemed  to  rest  on  the 
rugged  glistening  summits.  Here  and  there  a  stunted  cedar 
clung  to  the  cliff-side,  2,000  feet  overhead,  far  beyond  which 
the  narrow  blue  streak  of  sky  was  perceptible.  No  living 
thing  was  in  sight,  for  even  the  wing  of  bird  which  could 
pass  the  chasms  above  never  fanned  the  dark  air  in  those 


THE   GREAT   CAl^ON   OF  THE   COLORADO. 


IS 


subterranean  depths — nought  to  gaze  on  but  their  own  pale 
faces,  and  the  cold  grey  walls  that  hemmed  them  in  and 
mocked  at  their  p«?cape.  Here  and  there  the  raft  shot  past 
side  canons,  black  and  forbidding,  like  cells  set  in  the  walls 
of  a  mighty  prison.  Baker  had  informed  his  comrades  as  to 
the  geography  of  the  country,  and  while  floating  down  they 
remembered  that  Callville  was  at  the  mouth  of  the  canon, 
which  could  not  be  far  off — "such  wonderful  walls  could 
not  continue  much  further."  Then  Hope  came,  with  the 
prospect  of  deliverance  from  their  frightful  position.  A  few 
days  would  take  them  to  Callville  ;  their  provisions  could 
be  made  to  last  five  days.  So  these  two  men,  thus  shut  in 
from  the  world,  buried  as  it  were  in  the  very  bowels  of  the 
earth,  in  the  midst  of  great  unknown  deserts,  began  to  con- 
sole themselves,  and  even  to  jest  at  their  situation. 

Forty  miles  below  their  entrance  into  the  great  canon, 
they  reached  the  mouth  of  the  San  Juan  River.  They 
attempted  to  enter  it,  but  its  swift  current  cast  them  back. 
The  perpendicular  walls,  high  as  those  of  the  Colorado,  with 
the  water  flowing  from  bank  to  bank,  forbade  their  abandon- 
ing their  raft  to  attempt  escape  in  that  direction.  So  they 
floated  away.  At  every  bend  of  the  river  it  seemed  as  if 
they  were  descending  deeper  into  the  earth ;  the  walls  came 
closer  together  above  them,  thickening  the  black  shadows 
and  redoubling  the  echoes  that  went  up  from  the  foaming 
waters. 

Four  days  had  elapsed  since  they  embarked  on  the  frail 
raft;  it  was  now  August  2Sth.  So  far  they  had  been  con- 
stantly wet,  but  the  water  was  comparatively  warm,  and  the 
current  more  regular  than  they  could  have  expected.  Strole 
had  taken  upon  himself  to  steer  the  raft,  and,  against  the 
advice  of  White,  he  often  set  one  end  of  the  pole  against  the 


i6 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


'il 


bank,  or  some  opposing  rock,  and  then  leaned  with  the 
other  end  against  his  shoulder,  to  push  the  raft  away.  As 
yet  they  had  seen  no  natural  bridge  spanning  the  chasm 
above  them,  nor  liad  fall  or  cataract  prevented  their  safe 
advance.  But  about  three  o'clock  on  the  afternoon  of  the 
28th  they  heard  the  deep  roar  as  of  a  waterfall  in  front. 
They  felt  the  raft  agitated,  then  whirled  along  with  fright- 
ful rapidity  towards  a  wall  tiiat  seemed  to  bar  all  further 
progress.  As  they  approached  the  cliff,  the  river  made  a 
sharp  bend,  around  which  the  raft  swept,  disclosing  to  them, 
in  a  long  vista,  the  water  lashed  into  foam,  as  it  poured 
through  a  narrow  precipitous  gorge,  caused  by  huge  masses 
of  rock  detached  from  the  main  wall.  There  was  no  time 
to  think.  The  logs  strained  as  if  they  would  break  their 
fastenings.  The  waves  dashed  around  the  men,  and  the 
raft  was  buried  in  the  seething  waters.  White  clung  to  the 
logs  with  the  grip  of  death.  His  comrade  stood  up  for  an 
instant  with  the  pole  in  his  hands,  as  if  to  guide  the  raft 
from  the  rocks  against  which  it  was  plunging ;  but  he  had 
scarcely  straightened  himself,  before  the  raft  seemed  to  leap 
down  a  chasm,  and  amid  the  horrible  sounds  White  heard  a 
shriek  that  thrilled  him.  Turning  his  head,  he  saw  through 
the  mist  and  spray  the  form  of  his  comrade  tossed  for 
an  instant  on  the  water,  then  sinking  out  of  sight  in  the 
whirlpool. 

White  still  clung  to  the  logs,  and  it  was  only  when  the 
raft  seemed  to  be  floating  smoothly,  and  the  sound  of  the 
rapids  was  behind,  that  he  dared  to  look  up ;  then  it  was  to 
find  himself  alone,  the  provisions  lost,  and  the  shadows  of 
the  black  canon  warning  him  of  the  approaching  night.  A 
feeling  of  despair  seized  him,  and  clasping  his  hands  he 
prayed  for  the  death  he  was  fleeing  from.     He  was  made 


11! 


WHITE  CLUNG   TO   THF   LOGS   WITH   THE   GRIP  OF   DEATH." 


THE  GREAT  CANON  OF  THE  COLORADO. 


19 


cognisant  of  more  immediate  danger  by  the  shaking  of  his 
raft — the  logs  were  separating;  then  he  worked,  and  suc- 
ceeded in  effecting  a  landing  near  some  flat  rocks,  where 
he  made  his  raft  fast  for  the  night.  After  this  he  sat  down, 
to  spend  the  long  gloomy  hours  in  contemplating  the  horror 
of  his  situation,  and  the  small  chance  of  completing  the 
adventurous  voyage  he  had  undertaken.  He  blamed  him- 
self for  not  having  fought  the  Indians  till  he  had  fallen  by 
the  side  of  Baker.  He  might  have  escaped  through  the 
San  Juan  Valley,  and  the  mountains  beyond,  to  the  settle- 
ments. Had  he  done  so,  he  would  have  returned  to  his 
home,  and  rested  satisfied  with  his  experience  as  a  pro- 
specter.  But  when  he  thought  of  "  home,"  it  called  up  the 
strongest  inducements  for  life,  and  he  resolved  "to  die 
hard,  and  like  a  man." 

Gradually  the  du-wn,  long  perceptible  in  the  upper  world, 
began  to  creep  down  into  the  depths  of  the  chasm,  and 
gave  him  light  to  strengthen  his  raft  and  launch  it  again 
on  the  treacherous  river.  As  he  floated  down  he  remem- 
bered the  sad  fate  of  Strole,  and  took  the  precaution  to  lash 
himself  firmly  to  the  raft,  so  as  to  preclude  the  possibility  of 
his  being  separated  from  it.  This  forethought  subsequently 
saved  his  life.  His  course  through  the  canon  was  now 
down  a  succession  of  rapids  blocked  up  by  masses  of  rock, 
over  which  his  frail  raft  thumped  and  wliirled,  at  times 
wholly  submerged  by  the  foaming  water.  At  one  of  these 
rapids,  in  the  distance  of  about  a  hundred  yards  he  thinks, 
the  river  must  have  fallen  between  thirty  and  forty  feet.  In 
going  over  this  place  the  logs  composing  the  raft  became 
separated  at  the  upper  end,  spreading  out  like  a  fan,  and 
White  was  thrown  into  the  water.  He  struggled  to  the  side 
by  means  of  his  rope,  and  with  a  desperate  strength  held 

c  2 


■ 


''■\ 


I'll! 


n> 


ill 


|iii^ 


20 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


the  logs  together  till  they  floated  into  calmer  water,  when  he 
succeeded  in  re-fastening  them. 

White's  trials  were  not  yet  at  an  end,  and  in  relating 
the  following  incident  he  showed  the  only  sign  of  emotion 
exhibited  during  his  long  narrative.  About  four  miles 
below  where  the  raft  separated  he  reached  the  mouth  of  a 
large  stream,  which  he  has  since  learned  was  the  Colorado 
Chiquito.  The  canon  through  which  it  enters  the  main 
river  is  very  much  like  that  of  the  San  Juan,  and  though  it 
does  not  discharge  so  large  a  body  of  water,  the  current  is 
much  more  rapid  and  sweeps  across  the  great  Colorado, 
causing,  in  a  deep  indentation  on  the  opposite  bank,  a  large 
and  dangerous  whirlpool.  White  saw  this  and  tried  to 
avoid  it,  but  he  was  too  weak  for  the  task.  His  raft,  borne 
by  the  current  of  the  Colorado  proper,  rushed  down  with 
such  force,  that  aided  by  his  paddle  he  hoped  to  pass  the 
waters  that  appeared  to  sweep  at  right  angles  across  his 
course  from  the  Chiquito.  When  he  reached  the  mouth  of 
the  latter  stream  the  raft  suddenly  stopped,  and  swinging 
round  for  an  instant  as  if  balanced  on  a  point,  it  yielded  to 
the  current  of  the  Chiquito,  and  was  swept  into  the  whirl- 
pool. White  felt  now  that  all  further  exertion  was  useless, 
and  dropping  his  paddle,  he  clasped  his  hands  and  fell  upon 
the  raft.  He  heard  the  gurgling  waters  around  him,  and 
every  moment  he  felt  that  he  must  be  plunged  into  the  boil- 
ing vortex.  He  waited,  he  thinks,  for  some  minutes,  when, 
feeling  a  strange  swinging  sensation,  he  looked  up  to  find 
that  he  was  circling  round  the  whirlpool,  sometimes  close  to 
the  vortex  and  again  thrown  back  by  some  invisible  cause 
to  the  outer  edge,  only  to  whirl  again  towards  the  centre. 
Thus  borne  by  the  circling  waters,  he  looked  up,  up,  up 
through  the  mighty  chasm  that  seemed  bending  over  him  as 


THE  GREAT  CANON  OF  THE  COLORADO. 


21 


if  about  to  fall  in.  He  saw  in  the  blue  belt  of  sky  tha*- 
hung  above  him  like  an  ethereal  river,  the  red-tinged  clouds 
floating,  and  he  knew  the  sun  was  setting  in  the  upper 
world.  Still  around  the  whirlpool  the  raft  swung  like  a 
circular  pendulum,  measuring  the  long  moments  before  ex- 
pected death.  He  felt  a  dizzy  sensation,  and  thinks  he 
must  have  fainted ;  he  knows  he  was  unconscious  for  a 
time,  for  when  again  he  looked  up  the  walls,  whose  rugged 
summits  towered  3,000  feet  above  him,  the  red  clouds  had 
changed  to  black,  and  the  heavy  shadows  of  night  had 
crept  down  the  canon.  Then,  for  ^he  first  time,  he  remem- 
bered that  there  was  a  strength  greater  than  that  of  man,  a 
Power  that  "holds  the  ocean  in  the  hollow  of  His  hand." 
"  I  fell  on  my  knees,"  he  said,  "  and  as  the  raft  swept  round 
in  the  current,  I  asked  God  to  aid  me.  I  spoke  as  if  from 
my  very  soul,  and  said,  '  O  God  !  if  there  is  a  way  out  of 
til  is  fearful  place,  guide  me  to  it.' "  Here  White's  voice 
became  husky,  as  he  narrated  the  circumstance,  and  his 
somewhat  heavy  features  quivered,  as  he  related  that  he 
presently  felt  a  different  movement  in  the  raft,  and  turning 
to  look  at  the  whirlpool,  saw  it  was  some  distance  behind, 
and  that  he  was  floating  down  the  smoothest  current  he  had 
yet  seen  in  the  canon. 

Below  the  mouth  of  the  Colorado  Chiquito  the  current 
was  very  slow,  and  White  felt  what  he  subsequendy  found 
to  be  the  case — viz.,  that  the  rapids  were  passed,  though  he 
was  not  equally  fortunate  in  guessing  his  proximity  to  Call- 
ville.  The  course  of  the  river  below  this  he  describes  as 
exceedingly  "  crooked,  with  short,  sharp,  turns,"  the  view  on 
every  side  being  shut  in  by  flat  precipitous  walls  of  "  white 
sand-rock."  These  walls  presented  smooth  perpendicular 
surfaces  as  far  as  the  high- water  level,  which  left  a  distinct 


I  i 


22 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


\  * 

^  ■'  i  t 


I 


' 


mark  about  forty  feet  above  the  stage  of  the  month  of 
August.  The  highest  part  of  the  canon,  White  thinks,  is 
between  the  San  Juan  and  the  Colorado  Chiquito,  where  he 
thinks  the  wall  is  more  than  5,000  feet  in  perpendicular 
height,  and  at  a  few  points  far  exceeding  this.  Dr.  New- 
berry, the  geologist  of  Lieutenant  Ives'  expedition,  thinks 
that  for  a  long  distance  the  altitude  is  near  7,000  feet. 
Correct  altitudes,  however,  can  only  be  obtained  by  a  care- 
ful instrumental  examination. 

The  current  bore  White  from  the  Colorado  Chiquito 
slowly  down  the  main  river.  One,  two,  three,  four  days 
had  slowly  passed  since  he  tasted  food,  and  still  the  current 
bore  him  through  the  towering  walls  of  the  canon.  Hunger 
maddened  him.  His  thoughts  were  of  food,  food,  food ; 
and  his  sleeping  moments  were  filled  with  Tantalus-like 
dreams.  Once  he  raised  his  arm  to  open  some  vein  and 
draw  nutriment  from  his  own  blood,  but  its  shrivelled, 
blistered  condition  frightened  him.  For  hours,  as  he  floated 
down,  he  would  sit  looking  into  the  water,  yet  lacking 
courage  to  make  the  contemplated  plunge  that  would  rid 
him  of  all  earthly  pain.  The  morning  of  the  fifth  day  since 
he  had  tasted  food  he  saw  a  flat  strip  of  shore  with  bushes 
growing  on  it,  and  by  a  superhuman  eflbrt  he  succeeded  in 
reaching  it  with  his  raft.  He  devoured  the  few  green  pods 
and  the  leaves  of  the  bushes,  but  they  only  increased  his 
desire  for  more.  The  journey  was  resumed,  and  he  remem- 
bers two  more  days  of  unbroken  caiion  wall. 

On  the  afternoon  of  the  eleventh  day  of  his  extraordinary 
voyage  he  was  roused  by  hearing  the  sound  of  human  voices, 
and,  looking  towards  the  shore,  he  saw  men  beckoning 
to  him.  A  momentary  strength  came  to  his  arms,  and 
grasping  the  paddle,  he  urged  the  raft  to  the  bank.    On  reach- 


THE  GREAT  CANON  OF  THE  COLORADO. 


n 


ing  it  he  found  himself  surrounded  by  a  band  of  Yampais 
Indians,  who  for  many  years  have  lived  on  a  low  strip  of 
alluvial  land  along  the  bottom  of  the  canon,  and  the  trail 
to  which  from  the  summit  of  the  plateau  is  only  known  to 
themselves.  One  of  the  Indians  made  fast  the  raft,  while 
another  seized  White  roughly  and  dragged  him  up  the  bank. 
He  could  not  remonstrate;  his  tongue  refused  to  give 
a  sound,  so  he  pointed  to  his  mouth  and  made  signs  for 
food.  The  fiend  that  pulled  him  up  the  bank,  tore  from  his 
blistered  shoulders  the  shreds  that  had  once  been  a  shirt, 
and  was  proceeding  to  strip  him  entirely,  when  one  of  the 
Indians  interfered,  and,  to  the  credit  of  the  savage  be  it  said, 
pushed  back  his  companion.  He  gave  White  some  meat, 
and  roasted  mezique  beans  to  eat,  which  the  famished  man 
devoured,  and  after  a  little  rest  he  made  signs  that  he  wanted 
to  go  to  the  nearest  dwellings  of  the  white  men.  The 
Indians  told  him  he  could  reach  them  in  "  two  suns"  on  his 
raft.  Early  the  next  morning  he  tottered  to  the  bank,  and 
pushed  into  the  current.  Three  more  long  days  of  hope 
and  dread  passed  slowly  by,  and  still  no  signs  of  friends. 
Reason  tottered,  and  White  stretched  himself  on  the  raft, 
all  his  energies  exhausted ;  life  and  death  were  to  him  alike 
indifferent.  • 

Late  in  the  evening  of  the  third  day  after  leaving  the 
Indians,  and  fourteen  days  from  the  time  of  starting  on  this 
perilous  voyage.  White  again  heard  voices,  accompanied  by 
the  rapid  dash  of  oars.  He  understood  the  words,  but 
could  make  no  reply.  He  felt  a  strong  arm  thrown  around 
him,  and  he  was  lifted  into  a  boat,  to  see  manly,  bearded 
faces  looking  down  upon  him  with  pity. 

In  short,  Callville  was  reached  at  last.  The  people  of 
this  Mormon  settlement  had  warm,  generous  hearts,  and, 


i 


7' 


'f 


^M 


?    i 


I 


n 


24 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


like  good  Samaritans,  lavishly  bestowed  every  care  on  the 
unfortunate  man  so  miraculously  thrown  into  their  midst 
from  the  bowels  of  the  unknown  canon.  His  constitution, 
naturally  strong,  soon  recovered  its  terrible  shock,  and  he 
told  his  new-found  friends  his  wonderful  story,  the  first 
recital  of  which  led  them  to  doubt  his  sanity. 


■Ul! 


TEN    DAYS'  JOURNEY    IN    SOUTHERN 

ARIZONA. 

By  William  A.  Bell,  B.A.,  M.B.  Cantab.,  F.R.G.S. 

If  the  reader  will  glance  for  a  moment  at  a  map  of  the 
western  portion  of  the  United  States — I  mean  that  which 
lies  west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains — the  two  most  southerly 
territories  will  be  found  to  be  New  Mexico  and  Arizona. 
Across  the  southern  portion  of  these  regions  a  river,  called' 
the  Rio  Gila,  will  be  seen,  passing  from  east  to  west  until  it 
reaches  the  Rio  Colorado. 

The  district  lying  between  this  river  and  the  present 
boundary  line  of  Old  Mexico  is  often  called  the  "  Gadsden 
ten  million  purchase,"  because  in  1854  it  was  bought  from 
Mexico  by  the  United  States  for  that  number  of  dollars. 
The  boundary  line  at  first  proposed,  after  the  war  of  1848, 
was  to  have  been,  for  most  of  the  distance  between  the  Rio 
Grande  del  Norte  on  the  east  and  the  Rio  Colorado  on  the 
west,  the  bed  of  the  Rio  Gila.  But  even  as  far  back  as 
this,  the  Americans  were  contemplating  a  trans-continental 
railway,  and  the  explorations  which  had  then  been  made 
tended  to  show  that  the  only  great  depression  in  the  centre 
of  the  continent,  between  the  lofty  chains  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains  and  the  still  grander  ranges  of  Central  America, 
lay  a  litde  below  the  Rio  Gila. 

It  was  said,  and  with  perfect  truth,  that  if  the  Atlantic 
and  Pacific  Oceans  were  to  rise  to  the  height  of  4,000  feet, 


r  I 


V 


1 


I  I 


h  I 


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!    • 
» 


a6 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


i ) 


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11 


1  : 

i    * 

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i 

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liilu 


they  would  meet  about  the  32nd  parallel  of  latitude  in  the 
vast  plateau,  the  Madre  Plateau,  which  lies  south  of  the  Rio 
Gila ;  while  the  greater  part  of  the  continent  to  the  north- 
ward, as  well  as  the  plateaux  of  Mexico  to  the  south,  would 
form  two  huge  islands  separated  by  this  strait. 

In  Colorado  territory,  the  greater  part  of  which  averages 
from  8,000  to  10,000  feet  above  the  sea,  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains bifurcate  to  the  southward  and  gradually  become  less 
and  less  in  height,  until,  on  reaching  the  36th  parallel,  they 
can  no  longer  be  said  to  exist.  Between  these  forks  rises 
the  Rio  Grande  del  Norte,  discovered  by  the  Mexicans 
before  De  Soto  saw  the  Mississippi,  and  called  rfe/  Norie 
because  it  was  to  them  the  most  northern  river  on  tlie 
continent. 

The  Madre  Plateau,  then,  is  a  vast  plain,  extending  from 
the  Rio  Grande  on  the  east  for  three  degrees  westward,  and 
separating  the  Rocky  Mountains  from  those  of  Mexico. 
In  the  summer  of  1867  I  became  a  member  of  a  very  ex- 
tensive surveying  party,  organised  by  the  Great  Pacific 
Railway  Company,  for  constructing  a  trans-continental  railway 
from  St.  Louis,  westward  through  Kansas,  Colorado,  New 
Mexico,  Arizona,  and  California  to  San  Francisco,  and  it 
fell  to  my  lot  to  cross  this  plateau  in  my  wanderings  in  the 
Far  West. 

Two  surveying  parties  were  entrusted  with  the  survey 
and  examination  of  the  districts  south  of  the  Gila  River, 
each  consisting  thereabouts  of  the  following : — Twenty-five 
engineers,  made  up  of  levellers,  transit-men,  topographers, 
draughtsmen,  axe-men,  flag-men,  &c. ;  thirty  cavalry,  fur- 
nished by  the  Government  as  escort;  cooks,  teamsters, 
strikers,  &c.  Seven  wagons  carried  the  provisions  and 
baggage,  and  three  more  were  required  by  the  escort,  so 


JOURNEY    IN    SOUTHERN   ARIZONA. 


27 


that  in  all  each  party  mustered  about  seventy  men,  including 
two  or  three  native  guides,  ten  wagons,  sixty  mules,  and 
about  forty  horses ;  we  also  found  it  most  desirable  to  drive 
a  small  herd  of  cattle  along  with  us,  to  enabl .  c^s  to  kill  an 


i 
II- 


TENT    OF  THE  SURVEYING   PARTY. 


ox  once  or  twice  a  week,  as  occasion  required.  One  party 
was  under  the  direction  of  a  Mr.  Runk,  the  other  of  Mr. 
Eicholtz,  both  capital  fellows,  and  able  men  in  their  pro- 
fession as  engineers.  I  was  attached  to  Mr.  Eicholtz's 
party,  and  had  at  my  disposal,  in  addition  to  a  good  riding 


28 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


i 
I 


Ml 


•!il 


horse,  a  four-mule  ambulance,  in  which  I  carried  my  medical 
stores  and  photographic  materials,  for  I  combined  both  the 
offices  of  doctor  and  photographer. 

Upon  leaving  the  Rio  Grande,  and  turning  our  course 
westward,  our  party  occupied  themselves  in  trying  to  find  a 
practical  route  as  far  to  the  north  of  the  Madre  Plateau  as 
possible.  Several  mountain  spurs  extend  down  from  the 
north  into  the  plateau,  and  our  object  was  to  discover  any 
short  cuts  through  them,  while  Mr.  Runk's  party  were  run- 
ning a  continuous  line  in  the  more  level  country  to  the 
south  of  us.  The  first  obstacle  we  encountered  on  leaving 
the  Rio  Grande  was  Cooke's  range,  and  through  this  we 
discovered  a  fine  pass  ten  miles  long,  with  easy  gradients 
and  a  good  supply  of  water ;  we  then  crossed  a  plain  about 
forty  miles  wide,  a  continuation  northward  of  the  "Great" 
Plateau.  About  half-way  across  this  plain  is  a  large  hot 
spring,  called  O/o  Caliente^  which  issues  from  the  top  of  a 
mound  some  thirty  feet  high.  It  is  probably  the  crater  of 
an  extinct  volcano. 

On  Friday,  October  25  th,  1867,  we  left  Ojo  Caliente, 
and  came,  in  less  than  three  miles,  to  a  very  fine  spring, 
which  bubbled  up  vigorously  from,  the  ground  in  a  little 
basin  surrounded  by  lofty  cotton-wood  trees.  The  water, 
however,  was  hot,  but  not  so  hot  as  that  we  had  left.  Here 
we  camped  while  a  reconnaissance  was  made  in  advance 
to  discover  water  and  to  direct  the  course  of  the  survey; 
for  we  had  followed  neither  road  nor  trail  since  leaving 
the  Rio  Grande.  In  the  evening  the  little  party  returned, 
and  reported  open  country  ahead,  but  no  water,  at  least 
for  twenty  miles,  the  distance  they  had  been.  It  was, 
however,  determined  to  fill  up  the  water-kegs,  eight  in 
number,  each  holding  ten  gallons,  and  to  push  forward  to 


I 


ft 


•    !, 


1 


,      ■! 


!  |i 


i    0 


THE  YUCCA  IN   BLOSSOM. 


JOURNEY  IN   SOUTHERN  ARIZONA. 


31 


some  willows  and  cotton-wood  trees  about  eighteen  miles 
distant,  where  we  hoped  by  digging  to  find  a  spring.  At 
sunrise  next  morning  (Saturday)  we  started,  traversing  a 
slightly  undulating  plain,  covered,  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach,  with  the  most  magnificent  pasturage.  For  five  miles, 
as  we  followed  a  dry  valley  or  trough  in  the  plain,  our 
route  passed  through  a  continuous  grove  of  cactus  plants, 
averaging  from  ten  to  twenty  feet  in  height.  Here  and  there 
a  Yucca  plant,  or  "  Spanish  bayonet,"  shot  up  its  lofty  stems 
amongst  the  cacti,  adding  very  much  to  the  grotesqueness 
of  this  curious  vegetation.  The  cactus  groves  were  as 
thickly  stocked  with  the  Gila  "  quail,"  a  species  of  grouse, 
as  a  moor  in  Scotland  with  its  feathered  game  of  a  similar 
kind.  Enormous  coveys  of  thirty  or  forty  brace  rose  up 
on  each  side  as  we  passed,  and  ran  along  in  front  of  our 
horses. 

On  reaching  the  willows,  all  our  digging  failed  to  pro- 
duce a  drop  of  water;  so  after  trying  several  places,  both 
up  and  down  the  dry  bed  of  a  strcp.ni,  we  were  obliged  to 
put  up  with  a  dry  camp.  The  poor  horses,  as  usual  in  such 
a  plight,  looked  the  picture  of  misery  after  their  dusty 
march,  and  seemed  to  ask  with  their  eyes,  "Why  are  we 
forgotten  ?"  We  chained  up  the  mules  with  extra  care,  and 
let  them  kick  away  to  their  heart's  content,  and  make  the 
night  hideous  with  a  chorus  from  their  sixty  dry  throats. 
Sunday,  throughout  the  expedition,  was  generally  kept  as 
a  day  of  rest ;  but  this  was  an  anxious  day  to  us,  for,  besides 
the  mules,  we  had  four  horses  and  five  oxen,  and  scarcely 
water  enough  for  cooking  and  drinking  purposes.  I  joined 
the  water-hunters  at  daybreak,  and  armed  with  spades  and 
picks,  as  well  as  our  carbines  and  "  six-shooters,"  we 
directed  our  course  towards  the  Burro  Mountains,  the  next 


■  I 


11 


'I 


i'-i 


U 


';  f 


!    !! 


1 


nii 


32 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


obstacle  to .  the  westward.  We  had,  in  fact,  nearly  crossed 
the  plain  between  Cooke's  range  and  these  mountains,  and 
soon  entered  a  ravine  leading  up  to  them.  After  ascending 
for  seven  miles,  we  were  gladdened  by  the  sight  of  a  little 
water  trickling  over  some  rocks.  The  first  glance  satisfied 
me  that  all  was  right,  and  in  a  few  minutes  holes  were  dug 
in  the  dry  bed,  which  quickly  filled  with  good  spring  water. 
The  water  question  being  thus  satisfactorily  arranged,  a 
messenger  was  sent  back  for  the  whole  party,  while  we 
continued  our  ride,  for  the  purpose  of  exploring  the  moun- 
tains, and  of  finding  a  canon  supposed  to  cut  through  them 
near  our  point  of  junction.  We  had  received  very  conflict- 
ing reports  about  this  range  (the  Burro  Mcuntains).  At  a 
distance  of  some  twenty  or  thirty  miles  it  does  not  appear 
an  im.posing  obstacle,  for  it  seems  to  consist  of  three  moun 
tain  masses,  united  by  two  long  low  ridges ;  but  on  ap- 
proaching these  ridges  they  turned  out  really  to  be  only  long 
undulations  of  the  plain,  which  hide  from  view  very  rough 
and  formidable  mountains  behind  them.  Our  first  surprise 
occurred  when,  on  reaching  the  top  of  the  ridge,  we  found 
the  real  mountains  still  in  front  of  us.  We  pressed  on, 
however,  and  after  a  few  more  hours'  riding  the  crest  of  the 
main  range  was  gained,  and  one  of  the  grandest  of  pano- 
ramas burst  into  view  at  our  feet.  To  the  south  lay 
numerous  isolated  ranges  and  peaks,  whose  names  we  did 
not  know,  stretching  far  into  Old  Mexico,  and  rising  out  of 
the  great  Madre  Plateau,  which  lay  between  us  and  them, 
like  lofty  rock-islands  from  a  motionless  sea.  To  the  south- 
east the  graceful  Florida  mountains  retained  their  usual 
outline,  while  far  beyond  them  the  curious  peaks  of  the 
Oregon  range,  whose  fluted  basaltic  columns  justly  suggest 
the  name  "organ  mountains,"  were  distinctly  visible  near 


D 


U 

U 
X 
h 

O 

u 
y. 


^1 


li    i 


a  1 ! 


rn 


JOURNEY  IN    SOUTHERN   ARIZONA. 


35 


the  horizon,  although  situated  east  of  the  Rio  Grande,  more 
than  100  miles  distant  from  us.  Due  east  of  us  lay  the 
range  we  had  left,  with  Cooke's  Peak  rising  nobly  fiom  its 
centre,  and  the  exit  of  our  pass  (Palmer's  Pass)  distinctly 
visible.  Still  following  the  circle  towards  the  north,  the 
confused  mass  of  the  Miembres  Mountains  came  into  view ; 
then  those  of  the  Santa  Rita  and  Pimos  Altos,  semi- 
detached portions  of  the  same.  Quite  to  the  north,  twenty 
or  thirty  miles  distant,  some  very  high  snow-capped  moun- 
tains were  conspicuous,  forming  part  of  that  great  system  of 
mountains — the  MogoUon  Ranges,  north  of  the  Rio  Gila, 
the  home  of  the  bloodthirsty  Apache — which  has  never  yet 
been  explored. 

The  elevation  upon  which  we  stood  was,  in  fact,  the 
dividing  ridge  of  the  North  American  continent ;  the  little 
watercourse  at  our  feet  was  the  first  we  had  reached  which 
flowed  down  the  slopes  leading  to  the  Pacific ;  and  the 
broad  arid  plains  which  lay  between  us  and  our  next 
obstacle  to  the  westward  gave  a  most  extensive  forecast  of 
our  future  course.  Nearly  forty  miles  of  almost  complete 
desert,  with  little  chance  of  a  drop  of  water,  formed  the 
undulating  plain  between  us  and  the  next  westward  range — 
the  } 'Pioncello  Mountains.  To  the  south-east  a  secondary 
rai)  :,  <;:alled  from  its  conical  peaks  the  Pyramid  range, 
fiUeu  rp  uirther  south  a  part  of  the  centre  of  this  vast  tract. 
Our  field  of  vision  did  not  even  end  with  the  Peloncello 
Mountains,  for  Juan  Arroles,  our  guide,  pointed  out  in  the 
dim  horizon,  far  beyond  them  the  rounded  peak  of  Mount 
Graham,  and  the  two  sharp  heads  of  the  Dos  Cabasas,  the 
most  prominent  landmarks  in  the  Pino-leno  range,  and  the 
n;  undaries  on  each  side  of  Railroad  Pass.  These  ranges 
all  lay  far  below  us  :  they  evidently  rose  from  a  much  lower 

D    2 


I 


f    1 


■   'I 


'       I 


111 


w 


i 


S99 


36 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


I'! 


■•  '  'Ifll 


!l 


1! 


i  ■! 


ii  !ii 


mil 

i  ! 
1 


level,  and  seemed  to  show,  even  to  the  eye,  that  the  ground 
sloped  rapidly  down  towards  the  west.  So  extensive  a 
panorama  as  that  which  I  have  attempted,  however  feebly, 
to  describe,  could  never  be  witnessed  in  Europe,  or  in  any 
country  where  the  atmosphere  is  much  impregnated  with 
moisture.  For  more  than  100  miles,  in  almost  every  direc- 
tion, nothing  seemed  to  limit  the  extent  of  our  vision  but 
the  incapability  of  our  eyes  to  distinguish  objects  which 
were  rendered  too  small  from  their  remoteness. 

Our  guide  knew  the  canon  we  were  in  search  of,  and 
brought  us  next  day  dire^  V  to  its  head.  It  was  not  by 
any  means  a  gap  in  the  ran^  but  only  a  large  and  well- 
defined  gorge  on  the  western  side.  We  followed  it  down  to 
the  plain.  Two  miles  from  the  summit  a  large  spring  of 
clear  cold  water  flowed  from  beneath  a  perpendicular  mass 
of  rock,  and  formed  a  stream,  which  we  followed  until  the 
canon,  cut  out  by  it,  became  so  narrow  and  so  filled  up  with 
rocks  and  vegetation  that  we  were  obliged  to  bear  away  to 
the  right,  and  strike  it  again  lower  down.  The  stream  had 
disappeared  in  the  interval,  and  the  canon  from  this  point 
gradually  widened  out,  lost  its  fertility,  and  entered  the 
plain  as  a  dry  open  valley,  trending  towards  the  Gila,  scarcely 
twenty  miles  distant.  The  length  of  this  canon,  from  its 
head  above  the  spring  to  its  entrance  as  a  Canada  or  valley 
on  the  plain,  is  about  thirteen  miles.  For  half  its  course 
many  large  and  beautiful  trees  adorn  the  path,  amongst 
which  we  recognised  sycamore,  a  very  beautiful  species  of 
evergreen  oak  very  much  resembling  holly,  a  black  walnut 
(Juglaiis  Wkipplaina),  rough-barked  CQdSiX  {Junipenis  pachy- 
dermia), pines,  pinons,  acacia,  cypress,  mesquit  {Algarobia 
ghmdulosa),  plum,  and  several  species  of  cactus.  An  Indian 
trail  led  through  the  entire  length  of  the  canon,  including 


Ii 


1 1 


III 


JOURNEY   IN    SOUTHERN    ARIZONA. 


37 


the  two  miles  of  very  narrow  gorge,  as  well  as  over  the  hill, 
by  which  route  we  avoided  the  latter ;  and  it  was  evident 
from  the  recent  pony-tracks  that  the  Red  Men  still  used  it, 
and  were  probably  well  acquainted  with  all  our  movements. 
Other  signs  \vere  recognised  by  our  guide,  such  as  bunches 
of  grass  tied  up,  and  arranged  so  as  to  point  in  particular 
directions,  and  were  looked  upon  as  conclusive  evidence  of 
the  activity  and  watchfulness  of  our  hidden  but  ever-present 
enemies.  Game  was  abundant ;  two  kinds  of  quail,  black 
and  white  tailed  deer,  bear,  beaver,  squirrels,  and  hares 
innumerable.  •  Extensive  fires  had  burnt  down  the  bushes 
and  laid  bare  large  tracts  of  land  all  along  the  base  of  the 
mountains.  While  taking  advantage  of  the  delay  which 
the  difficulties  of  the  country  necessitated  to  enjoy  a  little 
deer-stalking  and  grouse-shooting.  Lieutenant  Lawson,  who 
commanded  our  escort,  and  myself  were  attracted  during 
our  rambles  by  a  curious  wall  of  rock  which  fringed,  like  a 
trap-dyke,  the  summit  of  a  rather  lofty  range  of  foot-hills. 
On  reaching  the  top  we  found  that  it  consisted  of  a  thick 
stratum  of  marble,  which  had  been  tilted  up  vertically  to 
the  height  of  from  seven  to  twenty  feet  above  the  ground, 
and  that  it  extended  for  miles  both  ways  along  the  hill-tops. 
This  wall  was  beautifully  variegated  with  white,  grey,  and 
red  marbles,  and  presented  the  finest,  as  well  as  the  most 
singular,  exposure  of  the  kind  I  have  ever  seen.  In  many 
places  through  the  mountains  we  found  quartz  ledges,  giving 
good  indications  of  gold ;  and  near  the  marble  wall  a  vein 
of  galena  cropped  out,  of  considerable  width.  Over  this 
vein  I  shot  a  new  and  beautiful  species  of  mountain 
grouse.  Four  days  were  occupied  in  trying  to  find  a  good 
pass  through  the  range,  but  our  efforts  were  useless.  We 
found,  after  surveying  to  the  summit  of  the  ridge  which 


I 


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I 

t 

i 

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38 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


'  !l 


skirted  the  base  of  the  mountains,  that  it  was  1,208  feet 
higher  than  Ojo  Caliente,  twenty-three  miles  distant,  and 
tliat  the  average  grade  for  the  last  three  miles  had  exceeded 
t6o  feet  per  mile,  and  this,  too,  before  the  mountains  them- 
selves had  been  reached.  These  Burro  Mountains  were 
not,  as  they  appeared  to  be,  an  ordinary  range  rising  from 
the  plain,  but  the  crowning  ridge  or  summit  of  the  great 
continental  water-parting;  and  although  they  rose  from  a 
much  higher  base  than  the  ranges  to  the  east  and  west  of 
them,  the  slope  up  to  their  base  was  not  rapid  enough  to 
be  distinctly  apparent  without  the  aid  of  6ur  surveyors' 
levels.  Nothing  remained  for  us,  therefore,  but  to  abandon 
the  line  which  we  had  been  surveying,  and  to  pass  around 
the  southern  extremity  of  the  range,  twenty  miles  distant,  on 
the  great  Madre  Plateau,  in  which  level  district  Mr.  Runk's 
party  was  then  at  work. 

October  ^isf. — A  march  of  seventeen  miles  parallel  to 
the  mountains  brought  us  to  Soldier's  Farewell,  a  solitary 
ruin,  which  was  once  a  station  on  the  mail  route,  during  the 
short  time  it  was  established  aloug  the  32nd  parallel.  Two 
niserable  water-holes  are  the  great  source  of  attraction 
in  this  place.  We  feared  they  might  have  been  empty,  as 
it  was  the  end  of  the  dryest  season  of  the  year,  but  a  shower 
of  rain  early  that  morning  had  providentially  filled  them 
partly  up  again.  While  we  looked  at  the  thick  green  puddle, 
full  of  creeping  things,  slime,  and  all  sorts  of  abominations, 
from  which  we  had  to  drink,  a  feeling  of  dread  for  the 
future  involuntarily  crept  over  us. 

The  whole  country  had  changed,  for  we  had  at  last 
entered  that  vast  plateau  upon  the  32nd  parallel,  which 
had  so  long  been  considered  the  only  practicable  line  for 
a  railway  route  across  the  continent.     How  thoroughly  I 


JOURNEY    IN    SOUTHERN    ARIZONA. 


41 


pity  the  lover  of  the  beautiful  in  Nature  who  is  obliged  to 
traverse  this  frightful  plain  from  El  Paso  on  the  Rio  Grande 
to  Apache  Pass.  Although  the  mountains  were  still  close 
to  us,  the  landscape  was  as  dreary  as  could  well  be  con- 
ceived. At  the  bottom  of  a  hollow,  caused  by  some  broken 
ground,  lay  the  two  putrid  water-holes  or  ponds,  overlooked 
by  the  tumbledown  walls  of  a  coralle  and  ranche.  Before 
us  extended  an  endless  parched-up  waste ;  some  places  were 
covered  with  poor  grass,  others  were  perfectly  bare  ;  and  as 
the  wind  swept  over  them  clouds  of  dust  were  driven  along> 
or  whirled  up  into  the  air  like  pillars  of  smoke. 

From  Soldier's  Farewell  we  marched  westward  to  the 
next  water-hole.  "  Barney  Station"  (twenty-one  miles),  also 
an  uninhabited  ruin  like  that  we  had  left,  and,  if  anything, 
more  dreary.  There  were  no  mountains  near  it,  the  land 
looked  a  dead  level  on  every  side,  and  not  far  distant 
towards  the  south  lay  what  the  Mexicans  call  a  huge 
playa^  or  dry  lake.  Over  such  a  tract  you  may  travel 
fifty  miles  in  a  straight  line,  without  crossing  a  water-course. 
When  it  rains  the  water  collects  in  whatever  part  of  the 
almost  mathematically  level  flat  happens  to  be  slightly 
depressed,  and  it  often  covers  many  square  miles  of  land 
to  the  depth  of  a  foot  or  less.  In  such  places  even  the 
scanty  grass  of  the  desert  will  not  grow,  and  the  whole  earth 
becomes  covered,  as  soon  as  the  rain-water  has  evaporated, 
with  a  hard  white  shining  crust  resembling  cracked  china, 
thus  forming  a  play  a.  The  water-hole  was  here  (B.^rney 
Station)  even  more  disgusting  than  those  we  had  left,  ibr  it 
served  to  water  not  only  the  men  and  stock  of  the  "  bull 
trains "  and  troops  which  passed  through  the  country,  but 
all  the  wild  animals  dwelling  within  a  radius  of  many  miles. 
Flocks  of  birds,  large  and  small,  trooped  to  and  fro  all  day 


1 

i 

i 

11 

t: 

V. 

1 

•I 


4a 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


I! 
ill 


I 


long ;  it  was  a  beautiful  sight  to  see  them  all  swoop  down 
together  like  a  sheet  of  feathers,  flutter  for  an  instant  over 
the  pool,  and  then  flit  away.  At  sunset  might  be  seen  at  a 
great  distance  a  V-shaped  figure  approaching  from  the 
clouds  :  this  would  be  a  flock  of  ducks,  geese,  or  teal 
coming  for  their  evening  bath.  Unhappy  stags  and  herds 
of  antelope  would  stealthily  approach,  and,  not  liking  the 
look  of  the  intruders,  make  off  again.  Not  so  the  wolves 
and  coyotes ;  those  fellows  seemed  to  suffer  frightfully  from 
thirst,  for  after  we  had  been  in  camp  for  a  few  hours  they 
would  become  so  bold,  or  rather  so  eager  for  water,  that 
neither  the  whiz  of  our  bullets  about  their  ears  nor  the  crack 
of  our  rifles  was  able  to  keep  them  away  from  the  pool. 

The  extraordinary  vividness  of  the  mirage  is  one  of 
the  great  peculiarities  of  this  region.  We  recognised  it 
often  on  the  plains  of  Western  Kansas  and  elsewhere,  but  it 
is  not  seen  to  perfection  until  the  Madre  Plateau  is  reached. 
Half  an  hour  after  sunrise  is  usually  the  best  time  to  watch 
for  it ;  then  the  distant  mountains  become  distorted  into 
the  most  grotesque  and  fairy  forms.  Magnified  to  many 
times  their  natural  size,  they  appear  lifted  into  the  sky,  and 
are  there  cut  up,  sometimes  horizontally,  sometimes  ver- 
tically, by  the  peculiar  magical  haze  which  surrounds  every- 
thing. Often  they  looked  like  terraced  citadels ;  sometimes 
the  phantasm  takes  a  pillared  form,  and  presents  to  the  eye 
ruined  temples  like  those  of  Greece  or  Egypt.  This  is  not 
only  the  case  with  the  mountains,  for  at  a  little  distance 
everything  appears  distorted ;  the  horses  are  changed  into 
giraffes,  the  tents  become  elongated  into  snow-capped  peaks, 
while  the  tufts  of  grass  and  the  meagre  scrubby  vegetation 
are  transformed  into  noble  f'^rests  of  gigantic  trees ;  every 
little  playa  becomes  a  beautiful  lake,  from  the  waters  of 


JOURNEY    IN    SOUTHERN   ARIZONA. 


43 


which  are  seen  reflected  the  magical  transformations  which 
all  surrounding  objects  have  undergone.  So  complete  is 
the  delusion,  that  I  have  often  remarked  to  a  companion, 
as  we  watched  the  horsemen  ahead  of  us  dashing  through 
the  midst  of  a  phantom  lake,  in  which  waves,  shadows, 
spray,  and  sunlight  were  all  portrayed  to  perfection,  "  How 
is  it  possible  thus  to  disbelieve  one's  senses  in  broad  day- 
light?" 

Barney  Station  is  4,211  feet  above  the  sea,  and  this  is 
about  the  average  height  of  the  entire  plateau.  During  the 
two  days'  march  from  our  camp  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains 
we  had  descended  2,000  feet.  The  sun  was  setting,  and  I 
was  just  securing  a  striking  picture  of  desolation — that  is, 
a  photograph  of  Barney  Station  in  ruins — when  two  strange 
objects  appeared  in  sight.  The  one  developed  as  it  a})- 
proached  into  a  most  dilapidated  and  old-fashioned  coach, 
the  other  into  an  equally  shaky  spring-cart,  and  both  were 
drawn  by  mules  ;  two  ladies  occupied  the  former  ciA  half-a- 
dozen  armed  soldiers  the  latter  vehicle.  The  gentlemen  of 
the  party,  four  in  number,  rode  on  each  side  of  the  coach, 
and  completed  the  travelling  "  outfit." 

Between  the  Rio  Gila  and  the  Mexican  boundary, 
Arizona  boasts  of  possessing  one  town,  Tucson,  on  the 
Santa  Cruz  river,  now  I  believe  the  capital  of  the  territory. 
This  was  the  destination  of  one  of  the  fair  travellers,  a  very 
pretty  girl  of  sixteen,  in  whose  veins  the  fiery  blood  of  Spain 
had  been  softened,  but  not  obliterated,  by  union  with  that 
of  our  own  race ;  she  was  returning  with  her  father,  an 
American,  having  just  completed  her  education  at  St.  Louis. 
Her  companion  was  on  her  way  to  join  her  husband  at 
Fort  Bowie,  and  to  share  with  him  the  anxieties  and  solitude 
of  a  post  which  guards  the  most  dangerous  pass  in  Arizona 


,j 


44 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


t 


I '  < 


— Apache  Pass.  We  shall  presently  get  a  glimpse  of  what 
such  a  life  is.  It  is  easy  to  fancy  what  extreme  pleasure  the 
presence  of  our  fair  friends  gave  us.  They  were  just  entering 
the  most  dangerous  part  of  their  journey,  where  defiles  had 
to  be  passed  through,  in  which  half-a-dozen  soldiers  and 
four  civilians  were  a  very  insufficient  escort,  so  that  we  were 
delighted  to  render  them  the  protection  which  increase  of 
numbers  afiforded.  On  the  afternoon  of  November  2nd 
Mr.  Runk's  party  came  in  sight,  and  completed  their  survey 
up  to  our  camp  that  evening.  Since  parting  from  us  a 
month  ago  they  had  met  with  open  country,  and  no  obstacles 
but  Cooke's  canon,  through  which  their  route  lay.  The 
Apaches  had  succeeded  in  driving  off  half  their  oxen,  but 
beyond  this  all  had  gone  well  with  them.  Altogether  we 
mustered  a  large  party  at  Barney  Station,  and  notwith- 
standing the  mud  puddle,  of  which  we  thankfully  drank,  and 
the  dreariness  of  the  place,  we  managed  to  make  ourselves 
exceedingly  jolly.  A  little  whisky  was  discovered  amongst 
"somebody's  luggage;"  the  fatted  calf,  our  best  bullock, 
was  killed  and  cooked ;  and  many  good  stories  and  bold 
adventures  were  told  around  the  camp-fires. 

Next  morning  Lieutenant  Lawson,  commanding  the 
escort,  started  with  nine  of  our  men  and  some  empty  wagons 
to  Fort  Bowie,  for  rations  and  forage ;  and  our  new  friends, 
with  Captain  Colton,  my  tent  mate,  and  myself,  completed 
the  party  by  joining  him  also. 

For  twenty-one  miles  we  traversed  the  level  plateau,  and 
then  entered  the  next  range  of  mountains,  the  Peloncello 
range,  halting  a  short  distance  within  a  pass  leading  through 
it,  known  as  Steam's  Pass.  At  this  spot  was  situated  the 
only  spring  to  be  met  with  on  the  road.  It  was,  however, 
dry  on  the  surface,  and  we  had  not  time  to  deepen  it    A 


JOURNEY   IN    SOUTHERN    ARIZONA. 


45 


beautiful  conical  mountain,  Steam's  Peak,  forms  a  good 
landmark  for  this  pass  and  spring.  From  Steam's  Peak  to 
Fort  Bowie,  in  Apache  Pass,  leading  through  the  next 
mountain  range  (the  Chi-ri-ca-hui),  the  distance  is  thirty-six 
miles,  without  a  drop  of  water,  making  in  all  a  jannada 
of  fifty-seven  miles  without  one  drinking-station. 

We  rested  until  sunset  at  Steam's  Peak,  in  order  to 
avoid  the  heat  of  the  sun,  and  then  started  through  the 
grandest  part  of  the  pass.  The  moon  was  almost  at  its  full, 
the  night  was  perfectly  calm,  and  a  I'quid  softness  pervaded 
everything.  These  mountains  were  infested  with  Indians ; 
and  the  ladies  were  rather  nervous,  as  now  and  then  we 
passed  through  a  narrow  part  of  the  gorge,  or  underneath 
some  lofty  crag.  To  keep  them  in  good  heart  we  sang  songs 
and  choruses,  in  which  they  soon  joined ;  these  were  re- 
echoed again  and  again  from  side  to  side.  The  cavalry 
ode  in  front,  and  the  infantry  brought  up  the  rear.  Now 
and  again  the  horses'  hoofs  would  ring  out  and  rattle  over  a 
bed  of  rocks ;  or  the  moon,  obscured  behind  the  mountain, 
would  suddenly  throw  a  flood  of  light  over  the  white  wagons 
and  glistening  rifles  of  our  party.  The  air  had  become  very 
cool  and  refreshing,  and  the  scenery  for  at  least  eight  miles 
through  the  pass  was  so  grand  in  its  rugged  barrenness, 
that,  seen  at  such  a  time,  it  left  an  impression  never  to  be 
forgotten. 

A  march  of  five  hours,  at  the  rate  of  four  miles  an  hour, 
brought  us  to  the  Cienega  de  San  Simon,  where,  as  the  name 
Cienega  implies,  there  is,  at  some  seasons  of  the  year,  a  small 
marsh,  with  a  little  stream  running  through  it.  We  found, 
as  we  had  expected,  no  signs  whatever  of  water,  but  plenty 
of  good  grass ;  so  here  we  made  our  midnight  halt. 

Before  daybreak  next  morning  our  fires  were  rekindled 


46 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


wl 


and  our  coffee  made,  for  we  had  carried  wood  with  us  from 
the  pass ;  and  before  the  sun  had  peeped  over  the  eastern 
mountains  we  were  again  on  our  way. 

Amongst  the  party  was  the  mail  contractor  for  this  road. 
Twice  a  week  a  mail-carrier  rides  from  Tucson  to  Fort  Bowie, 
1 06  miles ;  another  then  carries  the  mails  on  to  Soldier's  Fare- 
well, 86  miles,  where  he  meets  the  solitary  mail-carrier,  who 
has  come  from  La  Mesilla,  129  miles  to  the  eastward.  The' 
mail-bags  are  exchanged,  and  each  returns  the  way  he  came. 
The  men  who  thus  pass  unguarded  backwards  and  forwards 
through  a  hostile  Indian  country  require  no  small  share  of 
reckless  bravery.  Their  pay  is  high,  being  200  dollars  in 
gold  (or  £40)  a  month.  The  contractor  told  me  that  a  year 
never  passed  without  one  or  more  of  hi  ■>  mail-carriers  being 
"jumped"  by  the  Indians,  under  which  circumstances  he 
always  made  a  poiut  of  carrying  the  mails  himself  for  a 
fortnight,  at  least,  over  the  very  section  of  road  upon  which 
his  man  had  been  killed ;  after  which  he  had  never  any 
difficulty  in  finding  some  one  else  sufficiently  reckless  to  risk 
his  life  for  the  ordinary  remuneration. 

During  the  la'ter  ten  miles  of  our  march  most  of  the 
route  lay  through  thick  brushwood,  composed  of  mesquit, 
grease-weed  {Obione  canescens\  two  species  of  aloe,  yucca,  a 
very  b^ge  species  of  prickly  pear,  and  other  cacti,  besides 
many  kinds  of  thorny  bushes,  which  formed  an  almost  im- 
penetrable thicket,  very  well  adapted  for  an  ambuscade. 
Here  and  there  my  companion  pointed  to  snots  where  one 
or  other  of  his  mail-carriers  had  been  killed,  or  where  he  him- 
self had  been  "  jumped,"  and  related  how  he  had  escaped 
at  this  place  oy  the  speed  of  his  horse,  or  at  that  by  good 
service  done  by  his  revolver.  Many  01  his  anecdotes  were 
most  exciting,  yet  there  was  £io  appareri,  tendency  towards 


JOURNEY   IN   SOUTHERN   ARIZONA. 


47 


exaggeration ;  while,  on  the  other  hand,  he  openly  avowed 
that  the  more  you  have  to  do  with  Indian  warfare,  the  mor« 
you  dread  the  Indians  and  try  to  keep  out  of  their  way. 
"  Men  may  be  very  brave  at  first,  but  the  continual  anxiety 
soon  takes  the  dash  out  of  them " — and  this  avowal  came 
from  a  man  of  undoubted  courage. 

On  reaching  the  mountains  at  the  entrance  of  Apache 
Pass,  he  pointed  to  a  foot-hill  on  the  right,  and  gave  me  a 
little  sketch  of  the  Chi-ri-ca-hui  Apaches  during  his  residence 
on  the  spot.  Until  the  winter  of  1861-62,  the  Apaches  of 
that  range  had  not  shown  any  very  determined  hostility  to 
the  Americans,  and  the  mail  company,  for  the  two  years 
during  which  they  ran  coaches  along  this  route,  kept  on  good 
terms  with  them,  by  giving  occasional  presents  of  blankets 
and  food.  At  the  breaking  out  of  the  rebellion,  however, 
an  upstart  Federal  officer,  named  Barkett,  was  sent  to  take 
charge  of  this  part  of  the  country,  and  soon  after  his  arrival 
at  the  entrance  of  Apache  Pass,  where  he  formed  his  camp, 
some  Mexicans  applied  to  him  about  a  boy  of  theirs,  whom 
they  suspected  had  been  stolen  by  the  Apaches.  Barkett 
summoned  the  chief,  Cachees,  and  his  head  men  to  the  camp. 
Being  on  friendly  terms  with  the  troops,  the  Indians  im- 
mediately responded  to  the  summons.  Cachees  and  his  six 
head  men,  however,  positively  denied  the  charge  of  kidnai> 
ping  the  boy;  upon  which  orders  for  their  arrest  were 
immediately  given.  Cachees,  in  a  moment,  slit  open  the 
canvas  of  the  tent  with  his  scalping-knife,  and  escaped ;  his 
companions  were  all  secured.  A  man  named  Wallace,  who 
had  long  lived  on  the  most  amicable  terms  with  the  tribe, 
volunteered  to  go  alone  and  treat  with  them.  He  did  so, 
and  sent  back  a  message  to  Barkett  that,  in  his  opinion,  the 
boy  had  not  been  stolen  by  them,  but  added  that  he  himself 


)■  % 


ft; 


48 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


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was  retained  as  a  hostage  in  Iheir  hands.  Barkett  became 
furious,  and  swore  that  he  would  hang'  the  Red  Men  if  the 
boy  was  not  returned  that  night;  and  he  kept  his  word. 
On  the  hill  to  the  left,  those  half-dozen  savages  were  strung 
up  next  morning,  and,  shocking  to  relate,  poor  Wallace, 
who  had  trusted  so  implicitly  to  the  personal  affection  shown 
for  him  by  the  red-skins,  was  immediately  hanged  on  the 
summit  of  the  hill  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  pass.  This 
tragedy  over,  Cachees  and  his  entire  band  fled  back  once 
again  to  their  mountain  fastnesses,  never  more  to  come  in 
contact  with  the  white  man,  unless  in  the  execution  of  their 
unquenchable  revenge. 

Fort  Bowie  is  situated  about  six  miles  up  the  pass.  It 
consists  of  a  small  collection  of  adol?e  houses  built  on  the 
summit  of  a  hill,  which  rises  as  a  natural  look-out  station  in 
the  centre  of  the  defile,  and  commands  the  road  both  ways 
for  two  or  three  miles  of  its  length.  The  only  officers  at  the 
time  of  our  visit  were  Lieutenant  Carrol,  Lieutenant  Hub- 
bard, and  the  resident  surgeon ;  the  only  troops,  one  small 
company  of  forty  men.  The  officers  insisted  upon  Lieutenant 
Lawson,  Colton,  and  myself  sharing  their  quarters  ;  they  had 
not  had  a  visitor  of  any  kind  for  months,  and  had  almost 
forgotten  that  the  world  was  inhabited.  After  luncheon  I 
strolled  out  upon  a  higher  hill-top  to  choose  a  good  position 
for  taking  a  photograph  of  the  fort  and  pass.  The  view  was 
a  very  beautiful  one,  for  we  were  hemmed  in  on  all  sides  by 
lofty  mountains,  the  most  conspicuous  of  which  is  Helen's 
Dome,  well  shown  in  the  engraving.  Some  two  miles  distant 
in  the  pass  the  sheep  and  oxen  belonging  to  the  fort  were 
peacefully  grazing,  when  suddenly  I  perceived  a  commotion 
amongst  the  garrison.  All  were  hurrying  to  the  highest  part 
and  looking  towards  the  cattle,  from  which  direction  I  heard 


o 
a 

X 


M 

H 

m 

m 

ffil 

|Bt^      iwm 

II 

i 

n 

: 

1 

\     ,         ' 

' 

;, 

;, 

.: 

?    f. 


E 


JOURNEY   IN   SOUTHERN   ARIZONA. 


s» 


a  few  shots  fired.  It  appeared  on  inquiry  that  the  mail- 
carrier  proceeding  west  to  Tucson  had  only  gone  on  his  way  a 
short  distance  past  the  cattle,  just  beyond  the  turning  in  the 
road  which  hid  him  from  the  fort,  when  he  suddenly  cr  me 
upon  two  Indians  who  were  stealthily  creeping  up  towards 
the  stock.  Shots  were  exchanged,  and  he  immediately 
turned  back  to  give  the  alarm  to  the  men  guarding  the 
cattle,  and  to  the  sentinels  at  the  fort.  The  Indians  showed 
themselves  two  or  three  times  in  the  open  and  then  dis- 
appeared. It  was  useless  for  us,  with  our  wearied  horses, 
to  join  in  the  chase  after  a  couple  of  naked  Red  Men,  so  vve 
remained  behind. 

So  poorly  supplied  was  this  little  fort — if  such  a  term  may 
be  applied  to  a  collection  of  mud  huts — that  two  horses 
represented  the  entire  stock.  It  was  customary  to  keep  one 
of  them  with  the  herd  and  the  other  in  the  stable,  and  the 
favourite  chestnut  of  the  lieutenant,  a  high-mettled,  splendid 
creature,  happened  this  day  to  be  at  home.  It  was  imme- 
diately saddled.  Carrol  was  quite  young ;  he  had  only  seen 
eighteen  summers,  and  looked  even  younger,  for  his  hair 
was  very  fair,  and  he  had  not  the  least  tinge  of  whisker  on 
his  smooth  cheeks.  I  remember  watching  him  spring  with 
one  bound  from  the  ground  into  his  saddle,  wave  his  hand 
merrily  to  us,  and  then  dash  down  the  steep  winding  road 
which  led  from  the  fort  to  the  pass  below.  Again  we  saw 
him  racing  as  fast  as  the  horse  could  gallop  along  the  pass 
after  the  mail-carrier,  who,  being  previously  mounted,  had 
started  off  with  the  infantry.  I  went  back  to  my  photo- 
graphy, for  there  were  many  views  I  wished  to  obtain,  but 
my  friend.  Lieutenant  Lawson,  could  not  remain  long  inac- 
tive. He  was  quite  a  character.  Although  very  short,  grey 
with  years,  and  not  in  the  least  Uke  a  military  man,  he 

E    2 


■A 


Kw 


,1  ' 


J  (its 


If    I  ■  .1 


I  i 


52 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES, 


was  the  gamest  little  fellow  I  ever  met.  So  fond  of  soldier- 
ing did  he  become  during  the  war  that  he  could  not  settle 
down  again  to  business.  Though  one  of  the  steadiest  of 
men,  and  a  religious  man — a  great  rarity  out  West — he 
actually  left  his  good  wife  and  family  comfortably  settled  at 
Cincinnati,  changed  his  social  position  from  wholesale  hard- 
ware merchant  and  ex-colonel  of  volunteers  to  simple  lieu- 
tenant in  the  regular  army,  and  started  to  join  a  Western 
regiment.  The  merest  chance  of  a  brush  with  the  Indians 
was  irresistible ;  so  he  ordered  out  his  six  men  and  their 
six  jaded  horses,  and  off  they  went  down  the  winding  road, 
and  then  away  out  of  sight  along  the  pass. 

As  the  afternoon  went  by  most  of  the  infantry  returned 
by  twos  and  threes,  and  we  were  just  sitting  down  to  dinner 
when  Lieutenant  Lawson  and  his  men  rode  into  the  fort. 
They  had  hunted  about  all  over  the  mountains  and  through 
the  ravines,  but  had  encountered  no  savages,  nor  even 
caught  a  glimpse  of  a  red-skin.  Carrol,  to  our  surprise,  was 
hot  with  them.  We  made  inquiries,  and  found  that  all  had 
reported  themselves  except  the  lieutenant  and  the  mail- 
carrier.  We  questioned  those  who  had  gone  the  farthest, 
and  a  shepherd  just  back  from  over  the  hills,  and  these 
agreed  that  they  had  heard  the  distant  report  of  fire-arms, 
coming  apparently  from  the  western  plain.  This  was  the 
direction  the  two  red-skins  had  taken.  So  we  saddled  our 
horses  without;  a  moment's  delay,  and,  with  sickening  fore- 
bodings in  our  hearts,  started  across  the  mountains  to  the 
western  plain.  We  scrambled  up  the  base  of  Helen's  Dome, 
which  was  so  steep  as  almost  to  baffle  our  horses,  well  trained 
as  they  were  to  all  sorts  of  bad  places ;  then,  after  skirting 
the  side  for  some  distance,  we  crossed  a  ravine  to  another 
mouutain  slope,  down  which  we  plunged,  over  large  blocks 


^1-^ 


y 


THE  INDIANS  WATCHING  THE  FORT. 


JOURNEY   IN    SOUTHERN   ARIZONA. 


55 


of  limestone  and  marble,  leading  our  horses  by  the  bridles, 
and  clambering  through  them  as  best  we  could.  Every 
moment  was  precious,  for  the  sun  had  almost  set  befort:' 
we  reached  the  plain.  Then  we  spread  out  in  line,  nine 
in  number ;  for  there  was  no  enemy  in  sight,  and  our  only 
hope  was  to  strike  the  trail ;  for  we  knew  they  must  have 
passed  somewhere  in  this  direction.  Every  eye  was  fixed 
on  the  ground,  every  blade  of  grass  was  closely  scanned  ; 
our  very  souls  were  in  our  eyes.  At  last  one  marked  "  pony 
tracks,"  then  another  called  out,  "  This  way  they  lead,"  not 
two,  three,  or  four  tracks,  but  many — perhaps  a  dozen.  The 
white  men  had  evidently  followed  too  far  in  pursuit,  and, 
falling  into  an  ambuscade,  had  been  cut  off  from  their 
comrades.  Most  of  the  hoof-prints  were  naked,  only  two 
were  shod.  These  were  certainly  those  of  the  missing 
horses.  We  could  not  hurry  on  very  rapidly  without  losing 
the  trails,  and  yet  there  was  not  half  an  hour's  daylight. 
For  three  miles  further  we  pressed  on,  carefully  "  tracking 
our  way."  We  passed  a  spot  much  trampled  down  and 
blood-stained.  Here  the  poor  fellows  had  made  a  stand  ; 
had  probably  tried  to  cut  their  way  back  through  their 
enemies,  who  were  driving  them  from  the  fort.  A  little 
further,  and  all  hone  of  one  life  was  gone.  The  mail-carrier 
lay  stretched  upoi  .o  open  plain — scalped,  naked,  and 
mutilated — in  the  setting  sun.  This  poor  man  wore  whiskers, 
and  the  savages  produced  even  a  more  startling  effect  than 
usual  by  scalping  one  of  them.  Thus  half  of  the  face  was 
stripped  of  skin,  and  the  bleeding  muscles  were  laid  bare. 

We  could  not  stop  a  moment;  but,  dragging  up  two 
huge  magay  plants  to  mark  the  spot,  we  followed  the  pony- 
tracks.  The  sun  sank,  and  it  was  only  by  the  red  glare 
thrown  up  from  behind  the  horizon,  and  reflected  by  the 


b() 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


C'f! 

n 

'i  v. 


bare  mountains  of  rock  to  the  east  of  us,  that  we  were  able 
to  track  our  way.  So  difficult  was  it  at  last  that  we  began 
to  despair  of  ever  learning  the  fate  of  poor  Carrol.  We 
longed  to  see  his  dead  body ;  for  the  idea  of  being  taken 
alive  to  be  tortured  and  roasted  over  a  slow  fire,  whilst  the 
fiends  danced  round  him,  and  exulted  over  his  agony,  was 
the  one  dread  consummation  which  made  our  blood  run 
cold.  No  one  spoke,  for  we  all  knew  well  that  such  would 
be  his  fate,  if  that  sun  had  not  shone  upon  his  corpse. 

As  we  took  a  last  searching  look  over  the  dimly-lighted 
plain  in  front  of  us,  we  saw  an  object  move  slightly  on  the 
grass.  We  quickly  rode  towards  it,  and  in  half  a  mile 
further  we  found  that  it  was  the  faithful  dog  of  the  lieutenant. 
He  was  guarding  the  stiff  and  lifeless  body  of  his  master.  So 
we  wrapped  the  naked  body  in  a  saddle-cloth,  and  tied  it  on 
a  horse. 

But  for  the  moon,  we  should  not  have  found  the  spot 
where  the  mail-carrier  lay.  We  placed  him  also  on  another 
horse,  and  then  turned  our  faces  towards  the  pass.  The 
wolves  were  already  gathering  round  the  spot,  and  the  night 
winds  were  blowing  up  cold  and  chill.  The  night  before, 
that  same  beautiful  moon,  which  now  shone  peacefully  down 
upon  us,  had  lighted  us  through  the  noble  gorge  in  the 
Peloncello  mountains,  while  we  sang  choruses  and  enjoyed 
the  grandeur  of  the  scene.  This  night  she  lighted  us 
through  another  gorge,  in  another  range  of  mountains — 
Apache  Pass — but  how  different  were  our  feelings,  as  slowly 
wa  marched  in  mournful  silence  over  the  nine  miles  which 
led  up  to  the  fort !    Thus  ended  the  5th  of  November. 

Next  morning  we  buried  the  poor  fellows  in  the  little 
graveyard  amongst  the  mountains.  The  doctor  read  the 
burial  service,  and  Lieutenant  Hubbard,  Colton,  Lawson, 


4;- 


ill 


i\ 


' 

'm 

1] 

1     f 

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LI 

i 

1 

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1  ^ 

HHi  u 

,  1 

■■1 

1. 

■mI 

11 

1 

1 

JOURNEY    IN    SOUTHERN    ARIZONA. 


50 


and  myself,  were  the  chief  mourners.  When  the  final  volley 
had  been  fired  over  our  two  poor  comrades,  and  I  turned  to 
glance  at  the  tablets  of  their  companions,  I  read  on  the 
wooden  crosses  over  every  grave  but  one  and  the  same  sad 
story  of  their  fate — 

"  Killed  by  the  Apaches.'* 

When  Cachees'  six  best  warriors  were  wantonly  hanged  five 
years  before,  that  bold  chief  vowed  that  for  every  one  of 
his  lost  comrades  a  hundred  white  men  should  die  by  the 
hand??  of  himself  and  his  band.  Two  more  scalps  were 
thus  added  to  the  long  strings  of  those  which  already  hung 
from  the  belts  of  the  Chi-ri-ca-hui  braves. 


UNDER  THE   SNOW. 


ft 


r 


Bvk 


In  the  year  of  grace  1850  I  dug  gold  in  California,  right  in 
the  heart  of  the  Sierra  Nevada.  Men  had  wondrous  ad- 
ventures in  those  days,  and  not  a  few  who  sought  for 
El  Dorado  in  that  year  might  be  able  to  tell  a  worse  tale  of 
hardship  than  mine. 

I  and  my  "  partner  " — a  tall,  manly  Kentuckian,  who 
was  afterwards  a  general  in  the  Confederate  army,  and  is 
buried  before  Vicksburg — had  struck  upon  a  profitable 
stream  pretty  far  in  the  mountains,  and  turned  out,  with 
varying  success,  a  good  many  golden  ounces  before  winter 
began  to  close  in.  In  the  North  the  frost  destroys  all 
chance  of  mining  in  winter,  unless  in  very  deep  shafts ;  the 
whole  ground  being  frozen  to  the  depth  of  several  feet, 
leaving  out  of  account  the  miserable  nature  of  the  work. 
But  in  California,  owing  to  the  dryness  of  the  summer,  the 
winter  supply  of  water  renders  that  season  the  most  suitable 
for  the  gold-digger's  purpose. 

My  partner,  who  like  all  his  rp'^e  was  fond  of  amuse- 
ment, would  like  to  have  taken  a  it^n  to  the  *'  Bay,"  and 
knocked  about  San  Francisco,  the  wonders  of  which,  since 
we  had  last  seen  it,  the  new  comers  were  never  tired  of 
describing  in  glowing  language.  Our  "  claim,"  however, 
was  just  then  turning  out  better  than  ever,  and  he  had  half 
persuaded  himself  to  remain,  when  a  fall  which  I  had  on  Jie 
mountain  so  sprained  a  wrist  and  ankle  as  to  render  me 


MIMNU    fAKTY    IN    CALIKUK»\IA. 


liil 


IK'* 


UNDER   THE   SNOW. 


63 


incapable  of  moving  about  for  some  weeks  at  least.  This 
settled  my  r.'ond;  and  at  odd  times,  now  and  then,  he 
would  "  cozete,"  or  poke  about  in  holes  for  gold,  sometimes 
bringing  in  a  nugget,  and  sometimes  a  rich  lot  of  quartz, 
regular  labour,  without  any  assistance,  being  difficult. 
Often  enough  he  would  sit  whole  days  talking  to  me,  as 
I  lay  weary  on  my  straw  palliasse  by  the  fire.  He  had  to 
do  all  the  cooking  and  household  work  beside,  and  most 
cheerily  did  the  excellent  fellow  do  it,  though,  down  in 
"  old  Kentuck,"  his  father  was  proprietor  of  the  souls  and 
bodies  of — I  am  afraid  to  say  how  m.any  "  niggers."  True, 
our  establishment  was  not  large.  Clay  (that  was  my  part- 
ner's name)  and  I  had  built  it  in  the  space  of  a  week, 
not  working  very  hard  either.  It  might  be  about  twelve 
feet  square,  built  of  rough  lo^*?,  and  with  a  door,  made  with 
the  axe,  swinging  on  hinges  forged  out  of  a  pair  of  old 
mining  boots,  and  with  a  lock  which  we  used  to  style 
"  Clay's  Patent."  Yet  it  contained,  besides  our  valuable 
selves  and  a  nice  lot  of  mining  tools,  a  matter  of  three 
thousand  dollars  in  gold  dus%  buried  in  the  floor  just  under 
the  fire-place.  We  built  it  under  the  lee  of  a  huge  over- 
hanging rock,  not  only  for  shelter,  but  to  make  up  for  any 
shortcomings  in  the  roof,  which  I  must  confess  was  rather  a 
shaky  concern ;  the  mud  chimney  was  solely  Clay's  architec- 
ture. Window  we  had  none,  but  we  had  a  good  supply  of 
train  oil,  which  we  had  bought  cheap  at  an  auction  down 
in  the  nearest  mining  town ;  so  in  winter  we  calculated  to 
have  light  enough,  while  in  summer  we  sat  outside  the  door 
until  it  was  dark,  and  then  turned  into  bunk.  It  was  in  a 
beautiful  valley,  with  our  stream — creek  we  called  it — 
running  past  the  door,  and  snowy  mountains  and  pine  forests 
all  around. 


»;-1 

*■  « 


:    I 


J  ■{ 


Si' 


64 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


i% 


i 

i 

i'i 


Altogether,  as  we  surveyed  it,  after  our  work  was  finished, 
we  unanimously  concluded  that  "  Profino  Hall,"  as  we 
dubbed  it,  was  something  of  a  credit  to  the  architects.  To 
resume.  As  winter  closed  in,  snow  began  to  fall  heavily  in 
the  mountains,  and  little  work  could  be  done.  My  sprained 
limbs  still  kept  me  to  my  bed,  and  while  the  snow  fell 
uninterruptedly  outside.  Clay  would  sit  yawning  or  writing  a 
long  letter  to  the  "  old  folks  in  Kentuck,"  portions  of  which 
he  would  read  to  me  as  he  finished  them,  and  I  must  say  I 
have  read  many  less  amusing  literary  productions.  On  the 
second  day  he  looked  outside,  and  reported  that  it  had 
ceased  snowing  and  the  sky  looked  clear,  but  that  the  snow 
was  near  about  four  feet  deep,  which  was  almost  half  the 
height  of  our  cabin.  To  add  to  our  discomforts,  he  intimated 
that,  after  making  a  survey  of  our  provisions,  he  found  they 
would  only  last  till  the  next  morning.  The  result  of 
this  was  that  he  occupied  the  rest  of  the  day  in  making 
a  rough  pair  of  snow-shoes  and  a  little  hand-sledge,  with 
which  he  announced  his  intention  of  going  to  the  store,  which 
was  distant  some  four  miles,  and  the  nearest  hut  station, 
for  a  new  supply  of  provisions.  The  following  morning  he 
started  after  breakfast,  promising  to  be  back  that  evening. 
The  house  was  now  quite  dark,  so  he  left  the  lamp  burning 
beside  me,  with  a  supply  of  oil  within  reach.  With  my 
wonderful  faculty  for  passing  time  in  sleep,  the  day  wore 
away,  and  I  awoke,  as  I  thought,  about  night.  The  lamp 
had  gone  out,  but  I  lit  it  again,  and  filled  it  up  with  oil. 

The  accumulated  snow  on  our  roof,  with  the  last  few 
hours  of  sunshine,  had  slid  off,  but  now  I  could  see  it  was 
snowing  again,  for  through  the  chinks  in  the  boards  the 
flakes  of  snow  were  falling,  and  had  accumulated  in  a  tiny 
wreath  across  the  floor.     I  was  amused  for  some  time  in 


11' 


UNDER  THE    SNOW. 


«>5 


watching  the  flakes  falling,  but  soon  that  amusement  was 
stopped  by  the  roof  getting  covered  with  snow.  Then  I 
dropped  asleep  again,  and  when  I  awoke  the  oil  was 
low  down  in  the  lamp.  From  this  I  knew  that  I  must 
have  slept  about  six  hours,  for  old  experience  taught  us 
that  a  lamp-full  just  lasted  about  eight  hours.  What  could 
have  become  of  Clay  ?  I  was  now  getting  hungry — in  fact, 
ravenous,  but  I  knew  there  was  no  food  in  the  place,  the  last 
had  been  finished  at  breakfast.  Still  I  thought  he  must 
return  very  soon.  In  the  meantime  a  rat  or  two,  which 
somehow  or  other  had  found  their  way  to  our  hospitable 
mansion,  afforded  me  amusement.  One  big,  greyish-looking 
patriarch,  which  had  so  long  eluded  our  trap  that  we  called 
him  the  "  old  soldier,"  would  cautiously  creep  out  to  see  if 
any  crumbs  had  been  left  at  the  fire-side,  or  to  snap  up  the 
bacon  rind  which  was  lying  in  the  ashes.  My  revolver  was 
hanging  above  my  head,  and  taking  a  steady  aim  at  him,  I 
was  fortunate  enough  to  lay  him  dead  on  his  back.  Warned 
by  the  fate  of  the  "  old  soldier,"  no  more  appeared,  but — 
trifles  go  a  long  way  in  the  Sierras — I  chuckled  at  the 
astonishment  Clay  would  indulge  in  when  he  saw  our  old 
enemy  prostrate.  But  there  were  no  signs  of  Clay  yet. 
Then  I  laid  about  me,  wondering  what  had  kept  him. 
Would  it  be  the  snow  ?  No,  it  couldn't  be  that ;  he  wasn't 
such  a  "  missey  "  customer  as  to  be  scared  by  a  shower  of 
snow !  One  thing  after  another  was  thought  of,  and  as 
speedily  dismissed;  until  finally,  with  the  usual  changeable- 
ness  of  the  human  heart,  I  quite  made  up  my  mind  that  my 
partner  had  met  with  a  number  of  cronies  like-minded  with 
himself  at  Diggerburg,  and  was  spending  his  time  drinking 
whisky  and  playing  "cut-throat  poker."  That  was  just  it ! 
Twelve  months'  intimate  acquaintance  with  my  friend  might 


r;? 


m 


66 


WUNDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


have  taught  me  how  ridiculous  was  this  notion  of  his 
thoughtlessness,  and  selfishness,  but  at  the  time  my  ill  nature 
and  peevishness,  induced  by  pain  and  hunger,  never  allowed 
me  time  to  think  of  that. 


miners'  liquok-uak. 

I  had  now,  however,  a  grievance,  and  after  the  manner 
of  ill-used  men,  felt  more  comfortable  than  I  had  done 
before.  Inspirited  by  this  charitable  feeling  towards  my 
companion,  I  limped  up  at  the  risk  of  dislocating  my  foot, 
and  hopped  round  to  where  our  store  of  provisions  used  to 


fl 


if 


i.i.i' 


I    I'l 


I 


V  2 


!  !     I 


UNDER  THE  SNOW. 


69 


be  kept,  to  see  if  there  was  anything  eatable ;  I  was,  how- 
ever, disappointed — there  was  nothing.  I  then  broke  the 
ice  on  the  water-bucket,  and  took  a  drink.  This  only- 
sharpened  my  appetite,  and  with  a  delight  impossible  to 
describe  I  recollected  that  there  was  yet  some  bacon  rind 
lying  among  the  wood-ashes  of  the  fire.  Instantly  excited 
by  this  great  discovery,  I  looked  for  it,  and  snapped  it  up. 
This  only  made  me  worse,  when  I  noticed  the  body  of  the 
"  old  soldier "  lying  close  by.  It  required  but  a  very  few 
minutes  to  skin  and  disembowel  him.  I  tried  roasting  his 
limbs  by  the  lamp,  but  finding  this  a  slow  process,  I 
devoured  him  raw,  and  I  do  not  think  I  ever  tasted  any- 
thing more  delicious.  I  felt  now  a  little  quieter  in  the 
stomach,  and  was  thinking  how  I  could  supply  myself  with 
more  food.  Just  then  I  was  startled  by  a  dull  leaden  sound 
overhead,  several  times  repeated,  and  then  all  was  quiet.  A 
moment's  reflection  enabled  me  to  guess  my  position.  The 
hut  was  thoroughly  snowed  up,  and  this  was  an  avalanche 
from  the  mountain  behind,  which  the  shelving  rock  had 
enabled  to  slide  over  it,  leaving  the  roof  almost  uninjured. 
My  feelings  liow  became  uncontrollable,  for  I  was  con- 
vinced that  either  Clay  had  been  lost  in  the  snow,  or  that 
the  hut  was  so  snowed  up  that  he  had  been  unable  to  find 
it  again.  Notwithstanding  my  sprained  limbs,  I  managed 
to  drag  the  table  into  the  middle  of  the  floor,  thinking  to 
remove  a  portion  of  the  roof,  in  the  hope  that  perhaps  the 
snow  might  then  fall  inward,  and  enable  me  at  least  to  let  in 
the  light  of  day ;  but  just  as  I  had  succeeded  in  giving  a 
blow  or  two  with  the  axe,  the  table  overturned,  and  I  was 
precipitated  to  the  floor  with  my  ankle-joint  dislocated. 
The  pain  was  excruciating,  but  I  was  fully  conscious  of  my 
situation.     Giving  up  the  task^  I  again  dragged  myself  to 


} 


I 


t 


ill 


tli 


1 J 


1 


70 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


my  bed  and  lay  down.  There  was  a  closeness  in  tlie 
atmosphere,  but  I  could  breathe  quite  freely  enough  under 
the  snow,  as  has  been  experienced  by  others  in  the  same 
condition,  and  the  place  was  not  nearly  so  cold  as  it  usually 
was  without  a  fire.  By-and-by  the  pain  in  my  ankle  got 
deadened,  but  the  limb  swelled  much.  Without  assistance 
I  could,  however,  do  nothing.  I  was  almost  in  despair,  for 
I  now  knew  that  tlie  hut  was  completely  buried  in  the  snow, 
and  that  my  friend  had  perhaps  been  lost,  so  that,  in  all 
likelihood,  no  one  would  visit  the  hut  until  it  was  too  late. 
It  was  dift'eient  from  another  hungry  experience  I  had  had 
in  the  streets  of  San  Francisco  years  before.  Then  I  knew, 
if  the  worst  came  to  the  worst,  I  should  not  die — it  was 
only  a  question  of  how  long  my  pride  would  allow  me  to 
hold  out.  Pride  now  had  nothing  to  do  with  it,  a;  the 
question  of  holding  out  was  limited  to  the  few  days  I  could 
live.  I  am  not  ashamed  to  say  that,  under  these  circum- 
stances, I  could  not  help  weeping  bitter  tears.  If  my 
arms  and  legs  had  been  all  well,  I  might,  with  the  mining 
tools,  soon  have  dug  my  way  out  by  the  door,  but  in  my 
present  condition  it  was  next  to  impossible,  and  even  then 
to  drag  myself  over  the  deep  snow  for  four  miles  was  out  of 
the  question.  I  might  as  well  remain  and  die  where  I  was. 
I  filled  the  lamp  and  lay  down  again,  for  I  was  beginning 
to  feel  cold.  I  must  have  slept  a  long  time,  for  when  I 
awoke  the  lamp  was  out.  By  this  time  the  snow  had 
descended  the  chimney,  and  was  piled  in  a  great  wreath  on 
the  hearth,  and  things  looked  as  dreary  as  they  well  could. 
I  now  thought  that  I  might  be  able  to  subsist  on  the  store 
of  train  oil  we  had,  and  urged  on  by  my  gnawing  appetite  I 
swallowed  a  mouthful.  I  had,  however,  miscalculated  the 
strength  of  my  stomach,  for  I  almost  immediatelv  vomited 


>., 


UNDER   THE    SNOW. 


7« 


f -1 


it.     It  was  ver}'  rancid  ;  still  I  tried  again  and  again,  but 
repeatedly  failed  to  retain  it. 

1  now  made  another  effort  to  dig  myself  out.  Opening 
the  door,  a  wall  of  firm  snow  met  my  gaze.  Into  this  I 
pushed  long  mining  shovels  and  crowbar:;  until  my  strength 
failed  me.  We  had  only  a  few  ounces  of  gunpowder  in 
the  house,  and  even  if  we  had  more,  I  found  myself  so 
weak  that  I  could  not  use  it.  Faint  and  exhausted,  I 
lay  down  on  the  clay  floor,  unable  to  move.  Meanwhile 
I  heard  the  same  dull  leaden  sounds  as  before.  Were 
they  more  avalanches,  or  was  the  snow  melting  off  our 
house  ?  Crawling  across  the  floor  I  drew  my  blanket  over 
me,  determined  to  wait  the  end.  Just  then  a  scrap  of  news- 
paper caught  my  eye ;  it  had  been  wrapped  round  some 
groceries,  and  had  been  tossed  about  the  floor  unnoticed 
until  now.  A  word  or  two  arrested  iny  attention,  and 
though  I  would  fain  not  have  read,  I  could  not  resist  the 
temptation.  It  was  a  piece  of  the  California  Star,  con- 
taining an  account  of  the  horrible  sufferings  of  a  party  .of 
emigrants  trom  the  Eastern  States  whom  the  snows  in  these 
very  mountains  had  overtaken.  It  was  one  of  the  most  har- 
rowing incidents  in  all  Californian  history,  and  I  perused  it 
with  a  double  interest,  for  I  had  been  one  of  the  rescue 
party  who  had  saved  the  remnant  from  death,  and  my  name 
was  frequently  mentioned  on  the  scrap. 

A  more  shocking  scene  cannot  be  imagined  than  that 
witnessed  by  the  party  of  men  who  went  to  the  relief  of 
these  unfortunate  people.  The  bones  of  those  who  had 
died,  and  bt^en  devoured  by  the  miserable  ones  that  still 
survived,  were  lying  around  their  tents  and  cabins.  Bodies 
of  men,  wonien,  and  children,  with  half  the  flesh  torn  from 
them,  lay  on  every  side.     The  wild,  emaciated,  and  ghastly 


72 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


i     !     ■  !. 


appearance  of  the  survivors  added  to  the  horror  of  the 
scene.  Language  cannot  describe  the  awful  change  that  a 
few  weeks  of  dire  suffering  had  wrought  in  the  minds  of 
these  wretched  and  pitiable  beings.  Those  who  but  one 
month  before  would  have  shuddered  and  sickened  at  the 
thought  of  eating  human  flesh,  or  of  killing  their  companions 
and  relatives  to  preserve  their  own  lives,  now  looked  upon 
the  opportunity  those  acts  afforded  them  as  a  providential 
interference  on  their  behalf.  Calculations  were  coldly  made 
as  they  sat  round  their  gloomy  fire  for  the  next  and  suc- 
ceeding meals.  Various  expedients  were  devised  to  prevent 
the  crime  of  murder ;  but  they  finally  resolved  to  kill  those 
who  had  the  least  claims  to  longer  existence. 

So  changed  had  the  emigrants  become  that  when  we 
visited  them  with  food  some  of  them  cast  it  aside,  and 
seemed  to  prefer  the  putrid  human  flesh  that  still  remained. 
These,  and  even  more  horrible  statements,  were  on  the  scrap 
of  newspaper.  I  remember,  when  I  finished  reading  them, 
being  thankful,  even  in  my  misery,  that  I  could  never  be 
tempted  to  commit  cannibalism,  for  I  was  alone,  I  was  now 
scarcely  conscious  of  what  was  passing.  Gradually  lapsing 
into  a  heavy  sleep,  I  was  getting  weaker  and  weaker,  but 
perfectly  conscious  that  1  was  sinking.  All  desire  for  food 
had  left  me — I  simply  felt  weak.  I  had  now  lost  all  record 
of  time,  and  was  too  faint  to  keep  the  lamp  going,  even  had 
I  so  cared.  At  length  I  was  awoke  by  a  sudden  stream  of 
light  piercing,  the  roof,  and  I  now  saw  that  the  snow  had 
slid  off.  Soon  after  the  sound  of  voices  became  perceptible. 
Although  able  to  hear  the  voices,  and  even  distinguish  the 
men,  I  was  perfectly  unable  to  call  out.  Indeed,  the  effort 
to  raise  myself  was  too  much  for  me,  and  I  sank  behind  on 
my  rough  pillow  unable  to  speak.    1  could  see  the  roof-boards 


UNDER   THE   SNOW. 


75 


drawn  aside,  and  a  pair  of  legs  descending.  I  knew  the 
trousers,  too,  on  these  legs  :  they  were  those  of  my  lost 
friend  Clay.  Then  more  came  down — men  from  the 
neighbouring  mining  village — Joe  Horrocks,  of  Red  Cat 
Gulch,  and  Jim  Slocuin,  of  Gongo-Eye  Creek,  and  several 
more.  I  saw  poor  Clay — honest  fellow — standing  over  me, 
with  the  tears  running  down  his  cheek,  as  he  glanced  round 
at  the  signs  of  my  struggle,  the  overturned  table,  the  tools  in 
the  snow  block  at  the  door,  and  the  rat's  skin,  and  could  hear 

him  say,  "  I'm  blessed  if  I  don't  think  poor  B 's  gone 

in  !  No,  he  aint !  he's  breathing  !  I  see  his  lips  moving  ! 
Give  us  die  whisky,  Jim  !"  Then  these  rough,  but  soft- 
hearted n\en  raised  me  up  and  poured  some  whisky  down 
my  throat,  which  instantly  revived  me.  The  snow  was 
shovelled  out,  and  the  door  opened  again. 

Soon  the  fire  was  lit,  and  food  prepared  ;  but  it  was  long 
before  my  stomach  would  retain  the  slightest  nutriment. 
Then  I  heard  their  story.  It  was  as  I  expected..  The  snow 
had  covered  the  whole  valley,  and  hidden  all  the  familiar 
landmarks.  For  days  past  they  had  been  searching  for  the 
hut,  but  the  snow  was  so  dee )  that  had  ii  not  been  for 
a  great  snow-slide  the  day  before  they  might  never  have 
been  able  to  reach  me.  It  was  one  of  the  greatest  storms 
ever  known  in  the  Sierras.  I,  at  least,  am  likely  ever  to 
remember  it.  Altogether,  I  had  been  eight  days  alone  in 
the  cabin. 

After  the  lapse  of  many  years,  with  what  loving  gratitude 
do  I  not  remember  how  they  nursed  me,  like  a  child,  carrying 
me  in  their  arms  across  the  floor  !  When  I  was  well  enough, 
they  -wrapped  me  up,  and  made  a  stretcher  of  a  blanket 
between  two  poles,  and  bore  me  over  the  snow,  two  and 
two,  into  Diggerburg,  where  the  comforts  of  the  little  hotel 


! 


n 


Hfcliw*'*'^"* 


ii 


76 


'VONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


of  that  rough  settlement,  and  the  aid  of  a  surgeon,  gradually 
restored  me  to  health  and  strength.  I  had,  however,  just 
got  about  enough  of  gold-digging,  and  soon  took  to  a  pur- 
suit more  to  my  liking,  and  with  pleasanter  associations. 


w 


FRONTIER  ADVENTURES   IN   THE 
ARGENTINE    REPUBLIC. 

By  W.  S.  Parfitt,  C.E.,  F.R.G.S. 

After  a  sojourn  of  several  months  in  the  upper  provinces 
of  the  Argentine  Republic  in  South  America,  I  reached,  in 
March,  1868,  the  city  of  Rosario,  the  capital  of  the  Santa 
F^  province,  intending  to  remain  there  for  a  short  time,  to 
await  letters  from  Europe. 

The  city  of  Rosario,  on  the  river  Parand,  founded  by 
the  Spaniards  in  1725,  was  of  small  importance  until  1852, 
when  the  rapid  increase  of  river  traffic,  owing  to  the  emigra- 
tion from  Europe,  and  the  more  general  use  of  steamers, 
caused  Rosario  to  be  looked  upon  as  the  best  port  on  the 
Rio  Parand  for  the  growing  trade  of  the  provinces.  At  the 
present  time  it  contains  more  than  16,000  inhabitants. 

At  the  time  of  which  I  write,  many  Englishmen  and  other 
foreigners  landed  there  for  the  purpose  of  proceeding  by  the 
then  recently  opened  Central  Argentine  Railway  to  the 
English,  or,  more  properly,  Scotch  settlement,  at  Fraile 
Muerto. 

My  principal  reason  for  making  a  stay  in  this  place  was 
to  recruit  my  strength  after  several  months'  hard  life  in  the 
upper  parts  of  the  country,  and  to  wait  for  letters  from 
home. 

I  had  passed  two  days  very  pleasantly,  looking  about 
the  city  and  making  visits,  and  on  the  third  evening,  as  I 


n      u 


i 


i  1 


'!  I 


{> 


in 


70 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


was  sitting  in  my  room  at  the   Hotel  de  la  Paix,  the  mozo 
(waiter)    entered  with   a   note   from    a    French    gentleman 


INDIAN    OK   THE   RIO   QUARTO. 


i.ti 


who  was  waiting  in  the  sa/a  (hall  or  waiting-room).  It  was  a 
letter  of  introduction  in  favour  of  the  bearer,  M.  Moustier, 
written  by  a  friend  of  mine  in  Buenos  Ayres.     My  new 


IN    THE    ARGENTINE    REPUBLIC. 


79 


i.c(iuaintance  soon  afterwards,  over  wine  and  cigars,  gave  me 
the  following  account  of  himself: — 

M.  Mouslier  was  the  second  son  of  a  French  gentleman 
of  property  residing  near  Bordeaux.  He  had  been  well 
educated,  and  had  studied  for  the  law ;  but  belonging  to  a 
family  well  known  for  their  Orleanist  attachments,  and  him- 
self of  a  free,  impetuous  disposition,  he  was  persuaded  by 
some  of  his  companions  to  join  one  of  the  many  cons[)iracies 
started  in  France  against  the  Emperor  Louis  Napoleon. 
The  plot  was  discovered,  and  the  whole  party  were  arrested  ; 
but  he  contrived  to  escape  through  the  connivance  of  one 
of  his  guards,  who  proved  to  be  the  son  of  one  of  his 
father's  tenants,  and  returned  to  his  family,  who  judged  it 
prudent  to  furnish  him  with  the  means  of  emigrating  to 
South  America. 

Soon  after  his  landing  he  received  a  letter  from  his 
Hither,  advising  him  to  stay  at  l>uenos  Ayres,  and  containing 
an  order  on  a  merchant  there  for  a  sum  sufficient  to  start 
him  in  business.  After  remaining  some  time  in  the  city  he 
was  advised  to  purchase  some  land,  and  turn  sheep-farmer ; 
this  he  did,  and,  on  account  of  its  low  price,  became  the 
purchaser  of  two  square  leagues  (about  eighteen  scjuare 
miles)  of  land,  with  an  a{/ol?e-hui\t  esfaficia  (house  built  of  un- 
baked bricks)  within  a  few  miles  of  the  town  of  Rio  Q)uarto, 
situated  on  the  banks  of  the  river  of  thai  name,  and  well 
known  as  a  place  never  free  from  the  attacks  of  Indians  : 
this  latter  f^'^t  was  not  made  known  to  him  by  the  vendor,  for 
obvious  reasons,  and  it  was  not  until  after  he  had  signed  the 
requisite  documents,  and  paid  part  of  the  purchase-money, 

that  he  learnt   it  from  my  friend  Mr.   B ,   of  Buenos 

Ayres,  to  whom  he  mentioned  his  purchase.     This  gentle- 
man advised  him  strongly  not  to  venture  near  his  land  for 


tfll 


'\\ 


"■^^■■^ 


v  ■ 


i ;  I 


, 


i  I 


80 


WONDERFUL    ADVENTURES. 


several  months,  until  some  Government  troops  had  been 
sent  there,  as  was  intended;  but  finding  M.  Moustier 
determined  upon  proceeding,  and  knowing  that  I  was  on 
my  return  from  Cordova,  he  gave  him  a  letter  of  introduc- 
tion to  me,  asking  me,  as  a  favour,  to  give  any  advice  or 
assistance  in  my  power.  With  this  letter  he  arrived  in 
Rosario  the  previous  day,  and  had  seen  me  in  the  Plaza 
without  knowing  me;  but  on  looking  over  the  cards  of 
visitors  exposed  at  the  entrance  of  the  Hotel  de  la  Paix,  he 
was  agreeably  surprised  to  find  my  name,  and,  after  a  few 
inquiries,  sent  me  his  letter  and  card. 

Whilst  listening  to  the  foregoing  details  I  made  a  close 
mspection  of  my  visitor.  He  was  evidently  a  gentleman, 
and  spoke  English  fluently,  having,  as  he  afterwards  told 
me,  lived  in  England  two  years.  He  was  apparently  about 
my  own  age — thirty,  tall,  well-made,  and  with  a  cheerful, 
honest  countenance,  with  which  I  was  well  pleased ;  and  by 
the  time  he  had  finished  and  shown  me  the  map,  with  his 
purchase  marked  thereon,  I  felt  as  much  confidence  in  him 
as  if  I  had  known  him  for  years,  and  told  him  if  he  would 
come  and  take  breakfast  with  me  the  following  morning,  I 
would  in  the  meantime  consider  the  matter,  and  thus  be 
better  able  to  offer  advice. 

The  next  morning  my  new-found  acquaintance  made  his 
appearance  early,  and  together  we  had  a  good  bath  in  the 
Rio  Parana  whilst  breakfast  was  preparing.  After  breakfast 
we  resumed  our  conversation  of  the  previous  evening.  I 
tried  my  best  to  dissuade  him  from  making  the  journey, 
knowing  well  that  the  Indians  had  been  recently  seen  in 
large  numbers,  even  within  a  few  miles  of  Fraile  Muerto, 
160  miles  from  this  spot;  and  I  had  myself  recently  stopped 
at  an  estancia  (farm)  near  that  place,  from  whence  they  had 


IB'. 


!|.Vi 


""' 


lollilltlllllilljjl 


in  r 

IN    THE   ARGENTINE    REPUBLIC. 


83 


driven  off  all  the  cattle  during  my  stay.  My  words  proving 
of  no  avail,  and  finding  him  determined  to  proceed,  I  at 
last,  at  his  earnest  request,  agreed  to  accompany  him  as  far 
as  Fraile  Muerto,  and  from  thence  one  day's  journey  into 
the  pampa. 

I  proposed  this  route,  although  the  longest,  for  several 
reasons.  By  going  direct  from  Rosario  to  Rio  Quarto,  we 
should  have  the  whole  journey  to  perform  on  horseback, 
without  water,  and,  being  a  very  dry  season,  our  horses 
would  suffer  from  want  of  pasture  ;  but  by  the  way  of  Fraile 
Muerto  we  could  go  as  far  as  that  town  by  railway,  and 
could  there,  no  doubt,  procure  horses  and  a  vaqueano  (guide) 
to  the  exact  spot  we  desired  to  reach. 

The  remainder  of  the  day  was  spent  in  making  prepara- 
tions. My  own  were  soon  completed,  but  my  companion's 
took  more  time ;  for  when  I  asked  him  if  he  had  the 
requisite  things  for  such  a  journey,  he  replied  in  the  affirma- 
tive, saying  some  friends  in  Buenos  Ayres  had  supplied 
him  with  all  sorts.  This  I  quite  believed,  when  I  saw  the 
number  of  articles  they  had  loaded  him  with— overcoats, 
blankets,  hats,  guns,  a  long  Enfield  rifle,  medicine  chest,  &c. 
This  latter  was  nearly  large  enough  to  contain  the  whole  of 
the  rest,  and  was  stocked  with  enough  physic  to  kill  or  cure 
the  whole  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  place.  He  had  been 
induced  to  purchase  all  these  things  by  some  person  who 
had  brought  them  from  Europe,  but  finding  them  an  en- 
cumbrance, had  been  glad  to  part  with  them  at  any  price. 
I  selected  a  brace  of  very  good  revolvers,  a  good  saddle 
and  fittings,  also  a  good  blanket ;  then  going  into  the  town, 
bought  him  a  belt  to  contain  revolvers,  bowie-knife,  money, 
cartridges,  &c.;  then,  after  making  some  small  purchases  on 
my  own  account,  returned  to  dine  at  the  hotel. 

G  2 


ii^^ 


^ 


■  I 


11 


■,  I 


!  I 


j  1 


iM  \ 


84 


WONDERFUL     iDVENTURES. 


At  night,  soon  after  retiring  to  bed,  I  was  awakened  by 
pistol-shots,  sounding  as  if  fired  in  the  hotel ;  but  alter 
listening,  and  finding  the  noise  was  from  the  street,  I  tried 
to  sleep  again,  but  hearing  several  more  shots,  accompanied 
by  shouts  and  screams,  I  rose,  put  on  some  things,  went 
into  M.  Moustier's  room,  and  finding  him  awake,  we  both 
ascended  to  the  azotca  (flat  roof)  of  the  hotel,  where  we 
found  several  more  of  the  visitors  assembled,  watching  a 
fearful  fight  in  the  street  below,  between  some  drunken 
Irishmen  and  some  gauchos  (roving  horsemen)  from  the 
pampa.  The  latter  used  their  faccoones  (daggers,  or  knives, 
from  eighteen  inches  to  two  feet  in  length)  freely,  killing  one 
and  wounding  several  more  of  the  Irishmen  ;  but  getting 
more  sober  as  their  danger  increased,  the  Irishmen  used 
their  revolvers  with  more  effect,  shot  two  of  their  opponents, 
wounded  several  more,  and  drove  the  remainder  away. 
The  serenos  (watchmen,  or  police)  then  made  their  appear- 
ance, arrested  two  of  the  bystanders  who  had  taken  no  part 
in  the  fray,  and  bore  away  the  dead  and  wounded.  This 
disgraceful  scene  did  not  appear  to  make  any  great  im- 
pression on  the  citizens  who  witnessed  it,  as  they  are,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  familiar  with  such  scenes. 

Early  in  the  morning  we  procured  a  cart,  conveyed  our 
baggage  to  the  terminus  of  the  Central  Argentine  Railway, 
and  took  our  departure  tor  Fraile  Muerto  at  8  a.m.  In  this 
trip  a  traveller  has  a  fair  chance  of  seeing  the  general  aspect 
of  the  province  of  Santa  Fe',  and  part  of  that  of  Cordova. 

As  this  railway  is  de.-tined  ere  long  to  be  the  longest  in 
South  America,  a  short  ^lescription  will  be  interesting  to 
the  reader.  The  commencement  of  the  line  is  at  .Rosario, 
at  which  place  the  company  have  built  a  fine  station  and 
workshops,  making  their  own  bricks  on  the  spot  by  steam 


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THE   AMERICAN   OSTRICH. 


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machinery.  The  line  is  single,  five  and  a-half  feet  gauge, 
and  laid  down  without  timber  of  any  kind,  the  chairs  for 
holding  the  rails  being  cast  in  one  piece,  with  a  large  hollow 
plate,  which,  resting  on  the  ground,  forms,  when  placed  at 
intervals,  of  about  three  feet,  a  sufficient  bearing  for  the 
rails.  The  carriages  and  locomotives  are,  I  believe,  of 
United  States  manufacture ;  the  former  are  of  the  saloon 
type,  with  doors  at  both  ends  opening  out  on  small  galleries, 
where  the  guard  stands  to  manage  the  brake  ;  the  guards  as 
well  as  passengers  are  thus  able  to  pass  from  one  end  of  the 
train  to  the  other  through  each  carriage.  The  engines  are 
fitted  with  "  cow-lifters,"  for  clearing  cattle  from  the  line. 
This  railroad,  in  1868,  was  completed  as  far  as  Villa  Nueva, 
but  since  that  time  has  been  opened  to  Cordova,  from 
whence  arrangements  are  being  made  to  extend  it  across  the 
Andes  to  Copaipo,  in  Chili,  when  it  will  form  a  highway 
from  England  to  Australia  and  New  Zealand. 

To  return  to  the  account  of  our  journey.  Leaving 
Rosario  we  passed  some  large  estancias  and  quintas  (country 
residences  with  gardens),  then  proceeded  to  the  wild  and 
extensive  pampas  of  Santa  Fe.  Here  at  short  intervals 
we  rushed  through  herds  of  wild  cattle  and  horses,  and  I 
was  surprised  to  find  how  little  they  were  frightened  at  us. 
We  stopped  at  various  stations  on  the  road  for  water,  and 
to  leave  provisions  Rud  stores  for  the  men  in  charge  of  the 
stations,  and  thoso  working  on  the  line.  As  we  got  nearer 
the  province  of  Cordova  we  fell  in  with  large  flocks  of 
ostriches  and  several  red  deer;  and  for  about  six  leagues 
(eighteen  miles)  before  reaching  Fraile  Muerto  we  passed 
through  monies  (woods,  or  small  forests)  of  algorroba,  tala, 
quebracho,  and  other  trees,  tenanted  by  birds  of  all  sizes 
and  colours,  from  the  eagle  to  the  humming-bird.     Many  of 


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WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


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them  are  good  songsters.  At  4  50  p.m.  we  arrived  at  our 
destination,  where  we  found  a  good,  large,  and  substantial 
station,  with  waiting  and  refreshment  rooms.  In  the  latter, 
dinner  was  laid  ready  for  all  those  passengers  who  wished  it 
before  again  starting  on  iheir  journey. 

After  making  a  good  dinner  at  the  station,  we  hired  a 
cart  and  sent  our  luggage  forward  to  the  ouXyfonda  (inn)  in 
the  place,  whilst  we  walked  thither,  for  the  purpose  of 
getting  a  better  view  of  the  surrounding  scenery,  the  station 
being  about  one  mile  from  the  centre  of  the  town. 

Upon  leaving  the  station  the  road  passes  through  land 
Avhich  has  the  appearance  of  a  large  English  park  ;  in  fact, 
so  much  so,  that  I  once  caught  myself  looking  for  some 
evidence  of  a  mansion  between  the  trees.  We  passed  about 
three-fourths  of  a  mile  of  this  scenery,  and  then  arrived  at 
the  banks  of  the  Rio  Tercero  (Third  River),  a  very  rapid 
stream,  rising  in  the  Cordilleras  near  Cordova,  and  joining 
the  Rio  Parana  about  half  way  between  Rosario  and  the  city 
of  Parand.  In  summer  this  stream  is  very  much  swollen 
from  the  snow  melting  in  the  Cordilleras.  After  some  time 
spent  in  viewing  the  scenery  from  the  river-banks,  we  paid 
a  small  toll,  and  passed  over  a  good  strong  English-made 
iron  girder  bridge,  about  eighty  yards  long,  recently  erected 
to  take  the  place  of  a  dangerous  ford  close  to  this  spot, 
where  many  bullock-carts  have  been  carried  away  and  lives 
lost  when  the  water  has  been  high.  After  crossing  the 
bridge  we  found  ourselves  in  the  town  of  Fraile  Muerto. 

This  was  formerly  an  Indian  village,  and  derived  its 
present  name,  Fraile  Muerto  (literally,  "  Dead  Friar"),  from 
the  fact  of  the  Indians  having  killed  a  Jesuit  priest  sent 
there  by  the  early  Spaniards  to  convert  them.  The  Spaniards, 
as  they  grew  strong  in  numbers,  advanced  farther  into  the 


IN    THE    ARGENTINE    REPUBLIC. 


89 


countr}',  and  eventually  took  this  town  from  the  Indians, 
but  it  was  re-taken  by  them  and  again  lost  many  times,  until 
at  last  it  remained  in  the  Spaniards'  power ;  but  even  so  late 
as  a  few  months  before  our  arrival  the  Indians  had  made  an 
incursion,  killed  some  of  the  natives  living  on  the  outskirts, 
drove  off  their  cattle  and  horses,  and  very  much  alarmed 
the  town. 

Before  the  commencement  of  the  railway  the  town 
consisted  only  of  a  few  mud  ranchos  (huts),  each  of  which 
was  surrounded  by  a  trench  about  ten  feet  wide  by  six  or 
seven  feet  deep,  for  the  purpose  of  preventing  the  attacks 
of  the  Indians,  who  seldom  dismount  from  their  horses  to 
houses  when  thus  fortified.  At  the  present  time  new  well- 
built  azotea  houses  are  being  erected  in  all  directions, 
gardens  laid  out,  the  Plaza  fenced  in,  and  many  other  im- 
provements made.  A  great  deal  of  this  is  due  to  the  energy 
displayed  by  the  Scotch  immigrants,  who  have  settled  here 
in  large  numbers  during  the  last  two  or  three  years. 

After  passing  through  the  town,  looking  at  the  church 
and  Plaza,  we  at  last  arrived  at  the  fomta,  kept  by  an 
obliging  Italian,  where  we  found  our  luggage  ail  safe,  and, 
passing  inside,  we  were  warmly  greeted  by  some  of  the 
before-mentioned  Scotchmen,  some  of  them  having  known 
me  on  a  former  visit  to  this  town.  They  made  us  both 
promise  to  visit  them  at  their  estancias  before  again  returning 
to  Buenos  Ayres. 

As  we  wished  to  start  at  sunrise  on  the  following  moriimg, 
I  made  inquiries  for  a  vaqueano,  and  after  a  while  a  man 
appeared  who  proved  to  be  a  half-breed  (of  Spanish  and 
Indian  descent),  of  a  most  repulsive  appearance,  and  my 
Scotch  friends  strongly  urged  us  on  no  account  to  take  him ; 
but,  making  further  inquiries,  I  could  obtain  no  other,  owing 


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to  the  dread  of  Indians  being  still  in  the  vicinity,  so  that  we 
were  compelled  to  take  this  one,  or  go  alone.  After  some 
bargaining  (to  which  this  class  of  men  are  well  accustomed, 
and  state  their  price  accordingly),  we  agreed  as  to  terms, 
and  ordered  him  to  be  ready  to  start  soon  after  sunrise,  and 
to  find  five  horses,  one  for  himself,  one  for  M.  Moustier,  and 
one  for  me,  with  two  spare  ones,  in  case  of  accidents. 

After  a  long  chat  with  the  Scotchmen,  we  asked  to  be 
shown  our  beds,  when  the  fondista  told  us  they  would  be 
made  up  in  the  room  in  which  we  were  then  sitting  as  soon 
as  we  wished ;  but  the  appearance  of  the  place  being  highly 
suggestive  of  nocturnal  visitors,  such  as  fleas  and  other 
insects,  we  preferred  having  our  catres  (a  kind  of  folding  X 
bedstead)  placed  outside  the  house,  in  the  yard  attached  to 
\\\Q  fonda,  where  we  slept  soimdly  until  we  were  awakened 
by  the  sun  shining  in  our  faces  tlie  following  morning. 

Our  vaqucano  was  waiting  with  the  horses  all  ready. 
The  countenance  of  this  man  by  daylight  had  a  more 
villainous  expression  even  than  last  evening,  and  I  mentally 
determined  to  keep  a  sharp  look-out  on  his  actions,  but 
said  nothing  to  my  companion,  not  wishing  to  alarm  him 
unnecessarily. 

Ijefore  taking  breakfast  we  strolled  down  to  the  river, 
near  the  bridge,  in  company  with  two  of  the  Scotchmen, 
and  had  a  most  refreshing  bath,  although  we  could  only 
swim  with  the  stream,  which  here  runs  a.  the  rate  of  five  or 
six  miles  an  hour.  We  then  returned  to  the  fond  a,  took  a 
good  breakfast,  and  having  arranged  our  day's  route,  started 
with  the  intention  of  reaching  and  sleeping  at  an  estancia 
marked  on  M.  Moustier's  map  as  about  fourteen  leagues 
(forty-two  miles)  from  Fraile  Muerto,  and  owned  by  an 
Englishman  named  Ball.     Our  course  lay  south-west,  and 


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IN   THE   ARGENTINE    REPUBLIC. 


9t 


the  distance  to  M.  Moastier's  esfa»da,  as  near  as  we  could 
estimate  from  tlie  map,  was  about  forty-seven  leagues,  or 
about  141  English  miles. 

The  morning  was  beautiful.  A  fine  light  breeze  was 
blowing,  which  gratefully  tempered  the  heat  of  the  sun, 
whose  rays  would  otherwise  have  been  rather  oppressive. 
We  travelled  until  noon  without  stopping,  when,  finding  a 
small  lagima  (lake,  or  large  pond)  with  a  few  trees  near  it,  we 
decided  to  stay  in  the  shade  for  a  two  hours'  siesta.  We 
here  watered  our  horses,  and  putting  maneas  (straps  of  hide, 
to  fasten  the  two  fore  or  hind  legs  together  to  prevent 
straying)  on  them,  turned  them  loose  to  feed ;  for  ourselves 
we  mixed  some  caiia  (a  native  spirit  made  from  the  sugar- 
cane) and  water,  which  with  a  few  biscuits  gave  us  a  fair 
luncheon,  and  laid  down  under  the  trees  and  slept  for  about 
two  hours,  after  which  we  rose,  caught  and  mounted  our 
horses,  and  resumed  our  journey.  From  this  time  to  our 
arrival  at  Mr.  Ball's  estancia  at  sunset,  we  passed  over  the 
silent  and  level  pampa,  without  trees,  water,  or  hillocks  ; 
the  grass  seemed  also  to  be  all  of  one  height,  not  a 
single  tuft  rose  higher  than  another,  so  that,  looking 
around,  nothing  obscured  the  horizon  in  either  direction, 
nor  was  there  any  object  to  serve  as  a  landmark,  the 
traveller  in  these  parts  having  to  find  his  way  by  the 
TAm's  shadow,  or  by  a  constant  reference  to  his  pocket 
compass. 

Once  or  twice  we  saw  some  ostriches,  a  few  deer,  and 
several  owls,  these  latter  winking  and  blinking  at  us  from 
their  perch  at  the  entrance  to  the  burrows  where  they  hide. 

These  biscachareas^  or  burrows  of  the  biscacha^  excited 
the  curiosity  of  my  companion.  We  rode  round  one  of  the 
largest  of  the  masses  of  burrows,  to  examine  it.     It  com- 


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WONDERFUL   ADVENTURKS. 


prised  a  large  bare  spot  of  ground,  of  about  two  acres  in 
extent,  in  various  parts  of  which  were  holes  resembling  in 
appearance  those  made  by  our  rabbits,  but  much  larger; 
these  all  terminated  in  large  chambers  about  three  to  four 
feet  in  diameter,  and  four  feet  high.  These  chambers  are 
the  residences  of  the  animals,  which  are  of  about  the  size 
of  an  English  badger,  and  in  appearance  between  a 
badger  and  a  rabbit.  They  are  covered  with  fur  of  a  dark 
grey  colour  on  the  backs,  and  white  underneath.  Their 
heads  are  large,  and  have  a  white  mark  passing  beneath 
each  eye,  and  extending  to  the  point  of  the  nose.  They 
have  thick  whiskers,  composed  of  long  black  bristles.  Their 
ears  are  rather  short  and  rounded ;  the  fore  legs  are  slender 
and  short ;  the  hinder  ones  are  longer,  and  similar  in  form 
to  those  of  a  rabbit.  They  only  come  out  to  feed  between 
sunset  and  sunrise  on  the  young  grass,  but  are  very  partial 
to  maize,  European  wheat,  &c. 

When  attacked  by  dogs  they  defend  themselves  bravely, 
and  sometimes  come  off  victoriously.  I  once  shot  at  one 
whilst  I  stood  before  its  hole;  but  only  wounding  it,  my 
legs  were  at  once  attacked  and  my  clothing  torn  to  pieces 
before  I  succeeded  in  destroying  it.  They  seem  to  live  on 
terms  of  friendship  with  the  owls,  which  are  always  seen  at 
the  entrance  to  their  holes. 

Near  every  biscacliarea  we  passed,  we  noticed  a  species 
of  small  and  very  bitter-tasted  wild  melon,  which  appears  to 
thrive  on  the  manure  of  these  animals. 

A  short  time  before  sunset,  we  were  gladdened  by  the 
sight  of  Mr.  Ball's  estancia^  and  soon  afterwards  were  warmly 
welcomed  by  that  gentleman  himself,  who,  seeing  us  ap- 
proaching, rode  out  to  meet  us.  On  our  arrival  at  the  house, 
he  ordered  his  peones  (labourers)  to  look  after  our  horses, 


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IN    THE   ARGENTINE    REPUBLIC. 


91 


and  then  made  us  entei  the  house,  and  soon  after  partake 
of  a  hearty  supper. 

Before  retiring  to  rest  we  made  known  to  our  host  the 
object  of  our  journey,  and  were  much  pleased  to  hear  him 
say  that  there  need  be  no  present  fear  from  the  Indians,  as 
they  were  retreating  beyond  the  frontiers,  having  heard  that 
troops  had  been  sent  against  them ;  but,  at  the  same  time, 
advised  us  to  be  on  our  guard  against  our  vaqueano^  as 
he  had  on  more  than  one  occasion  known  him  to  have 
been  suspected  of  giving  information  to  the  Indians.  This 
strengthened  my  previous  resolution  to  keep  a  good  watch 
on  his  movements,  and  at  the  first  sign  of  treachery  to  shoot 
him.  After  listening  to  several  accounts  of  the  dangers  of 
frontier  life,  we  retired  to  rest,  promising  our  hospitable  host 
to  stay  a  day  with  him  before  we  resumed  our  journey. 

The  following  morning  we  rose  early,  had  a  good  wash 
in  the  cool  water  from  the  well,  and  whilst  breakfast  was 
preparing,  took  a  view  of  the  house  and  other  farm  build- 
ings, which  we  were  unable  to  see  the  previous  evening. 
The  house  was  built  of  bricks,  with  an  azotea  roof  of  the 
usual  kind,  but  surrounded  with  a  parapet,  on  which  were 
mounted  two  small  brass  howitzers,  with  which  our  host 
informed  us  he  had  greatly  surprised  the  Indians  in  their 
late  raid  ;  for  not  seeing  any  person  about  the  place,  they 
ventured  rather  closer  than  is  usual  with  them,  no  doubt 
w  ith  the  intention  of  stealing  two  good  black  horses,  which 
had  purposely  been  left  outside  of  the  ditch  running  round 
the  house,  as  a  decoy.  Not  having  any  balls,  our  host  had 
loaded  the  howitzers  with  old  nails,  broken  chain  links, 
broken  glass,  &c.,  and  as  the  Indians  came  up,  fired  them 
both  amongst  them,  badly  wounding  several  men  and  horses. 
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WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


would  not  attempt  to  again  molest  him.  There  were  three 
rooms  in  the  house,  two  on  the  ground  level,  and  one  above ; 
the  upper  one  was  used  as  a  bedroom  for  the  owner  and  his 
capitaz  (a  sort  of  foreman  or  flirm  bailiff) ;  below  this  was  a 
large  room  used  as  a  general  storeroom,  but  in  which  beds 
were  made  for  visitors  in  wet  weather,  or  in  times  of  danger, 
otherwise  they  preferred  sleeping  outside. 

From  this  room  you  passed  into  the  general  dining  and 
sitting  room,  furnished  with  a  large  rough  table,  and  half  a 
dozen  chairs,  all  more  or  less  damaged,  and  repaired  in  the 
usual  native  manner  with  hide.  In  one  of  the  corners  was 
an  old-fashioned  corner  cupboard,  in  another  several  rifles, 
some  with  bayonets  attached  ;  in  a  third  were  tools  of  various 
kinds.  On  the  walls  were  displayed  several  coloured  prints, 
some  framed,  and  others  not ;  one  of  these  was  a  portrait  of 
Queen  Victoria,  issued  some  years  since  with  the  Illustrated 
London  Neivs.  It  was  pasted  to  the  wall,  and  on  each  side, 
on  a  nail,  hung  two  large  holster  pistols,  with  their  muzzles 
pointed,  Fenian-like,  towards  her  Majesty.  In  other  places 
hung  revolvers,  riding-whips,  and  spurs ;  but  what  surprised 
me  most  was  seeing  a  handsome  gold  chronometer,  with 
massive  chain,  hanging  in  one  place.  It  was  nearly  new, 
and  by  an  eminent  London  maker ;  this,  our  host  informed 
us,  had  been  the  property  of  an  English  naval  officer,  who 
had  made  a  journey  out  as  far  as  here  for  the  purpose  of 
hunting  pumas ;  but  in  one  of  his  excursions  from  this  house 
to  a  forest  at  some  short  distance  away,  he  had  received 
severe  wounds  from  a  jaguar  which  he  was  hunting.  He 
succeeded  in  getting  back  to  the  house,  but  died  the  next 
day  from  the  injuries  he  had  received.  They  buried  him  a 
few  hundred  yards  from  the  house,  and  raised  a  small  cross 
of  wood  to  mark  the  spot. 


IN   THE   ARGENTINE    REPUBLIC. 


97 


On  the  outside  of  the  house,  but  inside  of  the  large 
trench,  was  a  small  Imt,  one  part  oi*  which  was  the  kitchen, 
and  in  the  other  lived  a  man  and  his  wife ;  the  former 
worked  as  peon  and  the  latter  as  cook  on  the  estancia.  Near 
this  hut  stood  two  ranchos  for  the  other  tarm  peones^  and  on 
the  outside  of  all  was  the  before-mentioned  deep  trench, 
which  could  only  be  crossed  by  means  of  a  long  plank,  and 
which  plank  was  removed  at  sunset  to  guard  against  surprise. 
On  the  outside  edge  of  the  trench  were  planted  prickly  cactus 
plants,  which,  with  the  ditch,  proved  an  almost  insuperable 
barrier  to  foes. 

On  the  outside  of  the  trench  was  a  fine  pott  ero  (fenced 
fieM)  of  about  six  acres  of  alfalfa^  similar  to  English  vetches, 
into  which  the  cattle  for  ploughing  were  driven  at  night,  in 
case  of  an  Indian  raid  ;  farther  on  was  a  large  corral^  in 
appearance  much  like  a  large,  round  country  pound  in  an 
English  village  :  the  horses  are  kept  here  at  night. 

In  a  galpon  (large  shed  or  barn)  the  peones  were  at  work 
shelling  maize,  which  had  been  recently  picked. 

Everything  about  the  place  was  in  good  order,  and 
appeared  comfortable,  but  a  stranger  could  not  at  first  get 
rid  of  a  feeling  of  solitude.  Mentioning  this  to  Mr.  Ball,  he 
replied  that  he  greatly  preferred  living  here,  contented  as  he 
was,  to  anything  in  the  same  way  that  could  be  offered  him 
at  home  :  here  he  had  always  plenty  to  eat  and  drink,  raised 
on  the  farm  itself;  and  the  sale  of  cattle  and  maize,  besides 
paying  all  working  expenses,  enabled  him  to  lay  by  a  hand- 
some sum  yearly  as  a  provision  for  old  age  ;  as  for  illness 
in  such  a  climate,  he  appeared  to  laugh  at  the  ver}'  idea. 
The  only  thing  he  seemed  to  regret  was,  not  being  nearer  to 
some  town,  so  that  he  might  get  his  letters  and  newspapers 
from  home  more  regularly. 


Ill 


II 


H 


i: 


i 


i^ 


[  i 


; 


98 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


About  the  middle  of  the  day  we  were  agreeably  sur- 
prised by  the  visit  of  the  owner  of  an  esfajtcia  seven  leagues 
distant.  He  was  a  German,  find  a  great  friend  of  our 
host,  being,  in  fact,  his  nearest  neighbour ;  finding  visitors, 
he  was  easily  induced  to  prolong  his  stay. 

Soon  after  the  arrival  of  this  gentleman,  M.  Moustier,  refer 
ring  to  our  host's  account  of  the  English  officer  and  jaguar, 
asked  if  there  were  still  any  in  the  neighbourhood  ;  if  so,  he 
should  very  much  enjoy  a  hunt.  Mr.  Ball  said  that  he  had 
not  seen  or  heard  of  a  jaguar  being  in  the  vicinity  for  several 
months,  but  if  we  wished  to  kill  one  or  two  pumas,  and  would 
remain  another  day,  he  would  take  us  to  a  large  lagjina  not 
far  off,  where  we  could  find  several.  We  thanked  him,  and 
at  once  accepted  his  offer. 

The  same  evening  and  following  morning  we  were  busily 
engaged  cleaning  and  repairing  rifles,  and  getting  various 
things  in  order  for  our  afternoon's  adventure ;  and  about 
three  hours  before  sunset,  accompanied  by  our  host  and  his 
German  friend,  we  started  for  the  laguna.  After  a  slow  ride 
of  four  miles  we  reached  the  spot  mentioned  by  our  host, 
and  found  a  large  pool,  about  three-quarters  of  a  mile  wide, 
and  from  one  and  a  half  to  two  miles  long ;  the  banks  were 
thickly  wooded,  with  plenty  of  brushwood  between  the  trees, 
thus  forming  a  good  cover  for  large  game,  such  as  we  sought. 

After  riding  some  distance,  we  put  the  nianeas  on  our 
horses  and  left  them  in  an  open  space  whilst  we  walked 
amongst  the  trees,  where  there  was  little  obstruction  until 
we  came  to  a  small  sandy  bay,  where  we  discovered  re- 
cent tracks  of  pumas  leading  to  the  water's  edge.  Mr.  Ball, 
upon  examining  them,  said  there  must  be  three  or  more 
large  animals  near  at  hand,  which  would  be  sure  to  return 
a,t  sunset  to  drink,  and  therefore  advised  our  immediately 


im 


Hi 


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t-^ 


I  -i 


'111. I 

I  :  j 
W 


■  i  (-1 


■il  . 


(^ 


C 
7, 


IN    THE   ARGENTINE    REPUBLIC. 


lOI 


seeking  hiding-places.  After  a  short  search,  we  found  a 
spot  that  commanded  the  Httle  bay,  on  the  sand  of  which 
were  the  tracks.  M.  Moustier  and  Mr.  Ball  climbed  up  a 
large  tree,  and  found  seats  and  concealment  amongst  the 
branches,  whilst  the  German  and  myself  concealed  our- 
selves amongst  the  underwood  at  the  foot  of  the  tree.  We 
waited  for  more  than  an  hour,  our  conversation  carried  on 
in  whispers,  until  the  sun  had  dipped  to  the  horizon.  The 
woods  then  became  all  alive  with  feathered  songsters — 
parrots,  cardinales,  and  many  others  peculiar  to  this  region. 
I  was  intently  watching  some  beautiful  humming-birds  flut- 
tering around  a  large  wild  flower,  when  the  German  drew 
my  attention  to  a  movement  in  the  underwood  at  the  head 
ot  the  bay ;  in  another  moment  some  red  deer  bounded 
forth,  with  every  appearance  of  extreme  fright ;  they  then 
stood  a  short  distance  from  us,  their  noses  high  in  the 
air,  eyes  strained  to  the  uttermost,  and  their  whole  bodies 
quivering  with  fear,  when,  suddenly  uttering  a  peculiar  cry, 
they  bounded  forward  into  the  water,  and  began  swimming 
for  the  opposite  shore.  At  the  same  moment  a  puma 
appeared  between  the  trees,  only  a  few  yards  from  where 
we  were  lying,  startling  us  greatly,  for  we  had  not  heard 
it  approach.  Although  so  close  to  us,  it  stopped  at  the 
water's  edge,  akd  seemed  to  be  meditating  following  the 
deer,  but  at  last  turned  back  a  few  steps,  and  lay  down. 
Looking  into  the  tree,  I  saw  our  host  making  motions  to  us 
to  reserve  our  fire  for  the  present. 

After  a  few  minutes'  silence,  a  disturbance  amongst  the 
trees  at  our  right  hand  caused  us  all  to  look  in  that  direction ; 
in  a  few  seconds  a  large  male  puma,  much  larger  than  the 
first  one,  appeared,  and  walked  quietly  to  where  the  latter 
was  lying,  which  immediately  got  up  and  moved  farther,  as 


i! 


^'. 


102 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


■^.  f- '' ' 


if  acknowledging  the  last  comer's  superiority ;  two  females 
then  followed,  one  of  them  with  two  cubs,  who  were  playing 
round  her  legs,  but  at  sight  of  the  water  left  her,  to  run 
forward  and  roll  in  it. 

Having  previously  arranged  between  us  that  the  German 
and  myself  were  to  fire  first,  the  two  in  the  tree  reserving 
their  fire  to  watch  the  effects  of  our  shots,  or  in  case  oi 
danger,  I  touched  my  companion,  and  telling  him  in  a 
whisper  to  select  the  puma  which  had  arrived  upon  the 
scene  first,  aim  well  and  fire,  I,  having  the  heavier  bore 
rifle,  would  take  the  largest.  The  German  at  once  fired, 
killing  his  on  the  spot,  and  I,  having  aimed  well  at  mine, 
was  about  pulling  the  trigger,  when  loud  cries  from  my 
comrades  in  the  tree  above,  followed  by  another  from  the 
German  at  my  side,  startled  me,  and  caused  my  aim  to 
swerve  at  the  moment  of  firing,  and  at  the  same  time  a 
smooth  gliding  body  passed  over  my  back  into  the  brush- 
wood at  my  side.  This  was  a  snake,  as  far  as  we  could 
judge,  about  seven  feet  in  length,  which  had  been  concealed 
in  the  thick  foliage  of  the  tree  above  the  heads  of  the  two 
men,  and,  being  frightened  by  the  German's  shot,  had 
passed  between  their  bodies  on  its  way  to  the  ground,  and 
then  over  ours  into'  the  thicket.  After  this  little  interrup- 
tion, looking  for  our  prey,  we  found  that  the  two  females 
he'd  succeeded  in  regaining  the  thicket  with  the  two  cubs, 
and  the  largest  puma  was  following  on  three  legs,  one  of  his 
fore-legs  being  broken  by  my  shot. 

After  re-loading,  we  all  pushed  into  the  wood  after 
them,  but  the  dense  underwood  prevented  our  advancing 
far  enough  to  overtake  them,  and  the  fast-failing  daylight 
warned  us  that  we  should  not  have  much  time  to  spare 
after  skinning  the  puma,  to  return  home  before  dark. 


IN   THE   ARGENTINE   REPUBLIC. 


103 


Two  of  us  turned  our  attention  to  the  horses,  whilst  the 
other  two  skinned  the  puma,  which  we  found  shot  through 
the  heart ;  it  proved  to  be  of  average  size,  measuring  five 
feet  ten  inches  from  the  head  to  the  end  of  the  tail.  This 
animal  is  the  so-called  South  American  lion,  but  more  nearly 
resembles  the  panther  than  the  real  lion.  It  has  no  mane, 
and  no  tuft  on  the  end  of  the  tail,  nor  is  the  head  of  the 
same  shape  or  so  massive  as  that  of  the  African  lion ;  the 
head  of  the  one  killed  was  very  small  in  proportion  to  the 
body  and  legs,  the  latter  being  very  large  and  muscular. 
The  puma  is  of  a  fawn  colour,  and  when  young  is  marked 
with  dark  lines  along  the  back;  these  fade  as  it  grows 
older.  In  disposition  it  is  ferocious  when  wild;  but  it 
only  attacks  man  when  driven  to  bay,  at  which  time  it 
is  very  dangerous  to  approach  it.  The  puma  is,  however, 
easily  tamtd,  and  becomes  quite  attached  to  its  keepers. 
Besides  the  peccary,  capybara,  and  deer,  it  destroys  sheep, 
hogs,  and  cattle.  The  German  informed  me  that  one  of 
these  animals  killed  fifty  of  his  sheep  in  one  night.  After 
skinning  the  puma,  we  threw  the  skin  across  one  of  the 
horses  and  rode  home  by  starlight. 

The  next  morning  we  took  an  early  breakfast,  and, 
after  heartily  thanking  our  hospitable  entertainer,  and 
promising  to  call  on  our  return,  resumed  our  journey 
towards  the  south-west.  We  continued  this  course  without 
seeing  anything  worth  noting  until  mid-day,  when  we 
halted  for  siesta,  and  to  cook  some  meat  we  had  brought 
with  us.  There  being  a  light  breeze,  our  matches  were  of 
no  use  in  lighting  a  fire,  so  I  produced  from  my  saddle- 
bags two  bottles,  without  which  1  seldom  travel  far  in  South 
America,  one  containing  a  mixture  of  chlorate  of  potash 
and  finely -powdered  white  sugar,  and  the   other  a  small 


1 .1 


.J*. 


104 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


!i  ^. 


quantity  of  sulphuric  acid ;  placing  a  little  of  the  powder 
beneath  some  dried  grass  and  weeds,  I  let  fall  upon  it  one 
drop  of  the  acid,  when  we  had  a  bright  flame  and  good  fire 
in  less  time  than  it  takes  to  describe. 

After  a  short  siesta  we  again  mounted,  but  had  to  alter 
our  course.  In  fact,  after  riding  some  time,  I  looked  at  my 
pocket  compass,  and  was  surprised  to  find  we  were  being 
taken  by  our  vaqueano  due  south,  instead  of  south-west,  our 
proper  direction.  Asking  him  the  reason  of  this,  he  seemed 
confused,  no  doubt  wondering  how  I  found  out  we  were 
wrong,  but  said  it  was  for  the  purpose  of  avoiding  some 
low,  marshy  ground,  that  would  have  interfered  with  our 
course.  I  told  him  there  would  be  time  enough  to  avoid 
it  when  we  saw  it,  and  drawing  my  revolver  from  my  belt, 
I  threatened  him  that  unless  he  resumed  the  proper  direc- 
tion, and  refrained  from  all  treachery,  I  would  shoot  him. 
We  continued  travelling  until  sundown,  when  we  halted, 
and  prepared  to  rest  for  the  night.  Whilst  our  tricky  guide 
was  taking  off  his  recado,  or  native  saddle,  I  took  the  oppor- 
tunity to  point  out  and  explain  the  various  parts  to  my 
friend,  who  had  never  before  observed  one.  It  must  be 
borne  in  mind  that  the  saddle  forms  the  seat  of  a  native 
for  nearly  the  whole  of  the  day,  and  when  on  a  journey  at 
night  invariably  his  bed,  so  that,  viewed  in  this  light,  the 
many  component  parts  need  not  excite  so  much  surprise. 
First  of  all  comes  the  coronillo,  a  sheepskin,  which  is  put 
on  the  horse's  back ;  over  this  is  placed  the  Jcrga  priinera^ 
•  a  piece  of  ordinary  carpet,  about  three-quarters  of  a  yard 
wide,  and  from  one  and  a  half  to  two  yards  long,  and  folded 
together  once ;  then  another  piece  of  the  same  kind,  but 
smaller,  nsuned  Jerga  segunda ;  then  the  corona  de  vaca  and 
corona  de  zueia,  both  of  the  same  size,  about  a  yard  square, 


IN   THE   ARGENTINE    REPUBLIC. 


lOS 


the  former  of  untanned  cowhide,  and  the  latter  of  tanned 
leather,  and  variously  ornamented  by  being  stamped  with 
hot  iron  stamps  of  various  designs ;  on  the  top  of  all  these 
is  placed  the  recado  proper,  made  of  wood,  covered  with 
leather,  and  sometimes  stuffed  with  wool  or  hair.  This 
last  article  is  made  to  fit  the  horse's  back,  and  at  the 
same  time  foniis  a  convenient  seat  for  the  rider.  To 
each  side  of  the  recado  are  fixed  the  stirrup  leathers ; 
after  this  comes  the  cincha^  which  usually  consists  of  two 
pieces  of  raw  hide,  fastened  together  at  one  end  by  a  ring, 
forming  a  sort  of  hinge.  One  of  these  pieces  is  thrown 
over  the  recado^  whilst  the  other  goes  under  the  belly.  The 
two  loose  ends,  which  have  also  iron  rings  attached  to  them, 
are  brought  as  close  togt^ther  as  possible  on  the  near  side 
of  the  horse,  and  then  drawn  tightly  together  by  the  correon, 
a  long  strip  of  hide,  passed  through  the  two  rings  and 
fastened.  To  the  ring  in  the  cincha,  on  the  off  side  of  the 
horse,  or  that  side  to  the  right  hand  of  the  rider,  is  attached 
another  ring,  to  which  one  end  of  the  lasso  is  made  fast 
when  in  use,  or  the  end  of  a  rope,  for  drawing  a  cart,  or 
other  purposes.  Over  the  whole  is  placed  a  woollen  cloth, 
covered  with  a  sort  of  fringe,  either  black  or  white ;  this  \?. 
called  the  cojini/lo,  and  is  kept  in  its  place  by  the  sobre  cin- 
cha,  a  small  strap  or  web,  which  passes  round  all.  Various 
kinds  of  stirrups  are  in  use,  some  wholly  of  wood ;  but 
when  a  gaucho  comes  out  in  his  best,  he  generally  sports 
silver-plated  iron  ones,  weighing  at  least  two  pounds  each ; 
and  I  have  many  times  seen  them  wear  silver-plated  spurs, 
whose  rowels  have  been  six  to  eight  inches  diameter,  and 
made  with  arms,  like  a  cog-wheel. 

After   watching   our   vaqueano    arrange    his   recado   for 
his  night's  repose,  we  sat  down  to  supper,  over  which  we 


II 


if 


i 


io6 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


Hi 


;  ill 

m 


lingered,  talking  of  home  and  friends,  and  wishing  we  could 
enjoy  home  comforts  together  with  the  beautiful  climate  of 
this  country. 

By    (juestioning    our    vaqueano^   who    appeared    radier 
sullen,  we  learnt  that  the  Indians  who  made  the  late  raid 

were  of  the  Calchaqui  tribe, 
living  near  the  border  of  the 
province  of  San  Luis,  and  that 
their  weapons  are  the  lance, 
the  lasso,  and  the  bolas.  The 
lance  is  made  of  bamboo, 
twenty  to  twenty-six  feet  long, 
armed  at  one  end  with  hard 
wood,  finely  pointed ;  the  lasso 
is  made  of  plaited  raw  hide, 
about  thirty  to  forty  feet  long, 
'jj  with  a  large  iron  ring  at  one 
end;  and  the  bolas  are  three 
balls  of  hard  wood,  or  three 
round,  smooth  stones,  covered 
with  hide,  and  united  together 
with  strips  of  hide  of  equal 
length,  about  thirty  inches. 
^Vhen  thrown,  one  ball  is  held  in  the  hand,  and  the  other 
two  whirled  round  several  times  above  the  head  of  the 
person  using  them,  and  then  suddenly  let  go,  when  they 
spread  open  like  chain-shot,  and  upon  striking  the  object 
aimed  at,  if  a  man,  encircle  him,  binding  his  arms  to  his 
sides,  but  if  oxen  or  horses,  get  round  their  legs,  and 
throw  them  to  the  ground. 

The  lasso  is  used  by  passing  one  end  through  the  iron 
ring,  forming  a  long  running  noose  of  about  six  feet  in 


A  GAUCHO. 


nr 


1 1' 


*ii 


: '' 


m 


o 
a 

X 
H 


dl 


I 

s 


IN   THE    ARGENTINE    REPUHLIC. 


109 


diameter,  which,  together  with  several  smaller  coils,  are  held 
in  the  right  hand,  and  after  being  whirled  several  times 
above  the  head,  is  thrown  over  the  head  of  tlie  ])erson 
aimed  at,  seldom  when  in  2^  gauMs  hand,  failing  its  mark. 

The  lance  is  used  in  the  hand,  but  never  thrown,  as 
described  by  some  writers.  With  regard  to  the  mode  of 
using  the  lasso,  our  engraving  will  give  a  better  idea  than 
pages  of  description. 

After  rolling  ourselves  in  our  blankets  on  the  ground, 
we  were  soon  fast  asleep,  and  had  been  so  for  some  time, 
when  I  woke  up  from  a  dream,  in  which  I  tliought  our 
vaqiieajio  had  transformed  himself  into  a  puma,  wore  spec- 
tacles, and  sitting  upright,  was  asking  which  ot  us  he  should 
devour  first.  I  sat  up,  rubbed  my  eyes,  and  looking  towards 
the  place  where  our  suspicious  guide  had  laid  his  recado,  I 
could  neidier  see  that  nor  its  owner,  although  the  starlight 
was  quite  sufficient  for  that  purpose.  Turning  my  eyes  to 
where  the  horses  were,  about  one  hundred  yards  from  us,  I 
thought  I  perceived  one  of  them  loose,  and  coming  in  our 
direction  ;  and  as  it  drew  nearer,  I  saw  our  vaqueano  by  its 
side,  leading  it.  Anticipating  mischief,  I  determined  to  lie 
quite  still,  as  if  asleep,  and  watch  his  movements,  but  at  the 
same  time  drew  my  revolver,  keeping  it  in  my  hand,  ready 
for  instant  use.  The  man  and  horse  approached  to  within 
ten  yards  of  where  we  were  lying,  when  the  man  left  it,  and 
silendy  drew  near  M.  Moustier,  who  was  nearest  him,  then 
bending  over  him,  began  unfolding  his  rug,  to  get  at  his 
revolver  and  money.  1  was  about  to  fire,  when  the  sleeper 
moved,  causing  the  vaqueano  to  get  up  ;  but  in  another 
instant  he  had  drawn  his  knife,  and  was  again  stooping  when 
I  fired.  I  saw  the  knife  drop  from  his  hand  as  the  ball 
struck  his  arm  or  shoulder,  the  arm  hanging  uselessly  at 


I 


W 


no 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


'a 


l  . 


;■■  ■ 


;  I 


his  side.  Before  I  could  fire  again,  M.  Moustler  sprang  up, 
and  the  man  succeeded,  wounded  as  he  was,  in  gaining  his 
horse  and  mounting.  He  then  rode  up  to  the  other  horses, 
drove  ofif  our  two  spare  ones,  whose  maneas  he  must  have 
previously  taken  off,  and  in  the  darkness  was  soon  beyond 
our  j)ursuit. 

Knowing  that  it  would  be  fruitless  to  follow  him,  we 
again  laid  down,  and  slept  until  morning,  when,  after  eating 
a  few  biscuits,  and  holding  a  consultation  as  to  ways  and 
means,  we  decided  that,  as  we  had  reached  so  far,  we  ought 
to  continue  our  journey.  With  the  assistance  of  the  map 
and  my  pocket-compass,  I  thought  we  could  find  our  way 
to  Rio  Quarto,  and  there  get  another  guide. 

During  this  day's  ride  we  passed  a  large  lake  and  tract 
of  forest,  near  which  we  saw  some  fine  specimens  of  the 
South  American  aloe,  together  with  the  cactus  known  as  the 
prickly  pear.  We  ate  a  large  quantity  of  the  fruit  of  the 
latter,  which  I  believe  to  be  one  of  the  best  of  the  country. 
It  has  a  taste  very  similar  to  that  of  a  sweet,  ripe  gooseberry, 
but  is  of  the  size  and  shape  of  a  pear.  It  requires  great 
caution  in  plucking,  being  covered  with  what  appears  to  be 
light- red  spots,  but  which  in  reality  are  clusters  of  very  fine 
and  sharp  thorns,  almost  imperceptible,  which  enter  the 
hand  and  give  great  pain,  and  are,  from  their  small  size,  very, 
difficult  to  extract. 

When  halting  for  our  usual  siesta  to-day  we  saw  an 
armadillo,  and  giving  chase,  we  succeeded  in  catching  hold 
of  its  tail  as  it  was  entering  a  hole.  Knowing  the  diffi- 
culty of  withdrawing  it  without  the  loss  of  its  tail,  I  held 
it  fast  whilst  my  companion  dug  away  the  earth  with  the 
knife  our  vaqueano  dropped  in  the  night  after  my  shot. 
After  a  little  trouble,  we  secured  and  killed  our  prize,  and 


!, 


IN   THE   ARGENTINE    REPUBLIC. 


Ill 


cooked  it  in  true  native  style,  as  came  con  cuero — that  is, 
in  its  skin  or  shell.  It  was  a  perfect  luxury,  tasting  very 
much  like  a  fat  sucking-pig.  Not  eating  the  whole,  we 
strapped  the  remaining  portion,  in  the  shell,  behind  one  ot 
our  saddles,  and  again  started  forward.  Towards  evening,  as 
we  were  passing  at  some  distance  from  a  herd  of  deer, 
we  saw  a  large  eagle  swoop  down  amongst  them,  and  re- 
ascend,  bearing  away  a  young  fawn  in  its  talons.  Further 
west,  among  the  Andes,  these  birds  frequently  carry  off 
sheep,  calves,  and  even  children. 

We  halted  at  night  in  the  open  pampa,  amongst  the  high 
grass  and  wild  flowers.  The  evening  being  very  still,  widi 
wind  insufficient  to  move  even  a  blade  of  grass,  we  could 
not  but  notice  the  intense  silence  and  repose  of  the  land- 
scape. Looking  round,  not  a  tree  was  to  be  seen — nothing 
but  one  vast  level  wild  plain,  covered  with  grass  and  wild 
flowers. 

After  supper  I  looked  to  the  horses  ;  and  being  now 
reduced  to  one  horse  each,  I  took  the  precaution  of 
coupling  them  together,  and  then  making  one  end  of  a  soga 
(long  line  of  raw  hide)  fast  round  one  of  their  necks,  I 
passed  the  other  end  round  my  arm,  as  I  stretched  myselr 
on  the  ground,  so  that  they  could  not  stray  far  without 
waking  me.  During  my  sleep,  and  whilst  dreaming  I  was 
enjoying  a  good  rest,  having  completed  our  journey,  I  was 
suddenly  roused  by  a  sharp  jerk  of  the  soga  round  my  arm 
followed  by  the  neighing  of  both  the  horses.  Arousing  my 
companion,  who  was  snoring  by  my  side,  we  both  sat  up  to 
listen,  but  for  some  time  could  hear  nothing.  As  we  were 
about  to  lie  down  again  we  heard  sounds  similar  to 
those  produced  by  a  moving  body  of  horses,  and  thinking 
a  manada  (troop)  of  wild  horses  was  near  us,  I  asked  M. 


t 


w 


,). 


I'- 
ll? , 

I,;  1 


:! 


li 


lit 


IT2 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


Moustier  to  saddle  our  ste'^d'j,  so  as  to  be  ready  to  move  if 
necessary,  whilst  I  crept  forward  in  the  high  grass,  to  see  if 
there  was  any  other  danger.  After  going  some  distance,  I 
plainly  heard  the  tramp  of  horses  coming  nearer  and  nearer, 
but  thinking,  from  the  direction  of  the  sounds,  they  would 
pass  at  some  distance  from  us,  I  was  about  to  retrace  my 
steps,  when  I  heard  a  movement  of  something  in  the  grass, 
and  as  I  turned,  my  left  arm  was  seized  by  some  animal 
which  I  could  barely  distinguish  in  the  darkness,  nor  would 
it  leave  me  until  I  drew  my  knife  and  stabbed  it  twice. 
From  its  howling  I  knew  it  to  be  an  Indian  dog ;  the  yells 
were  then  followed  by  the  voices  of  men,  and  I  perceived 
that  a  troop  of  Indians  had  altered  their  course,  and  were 
fast  coming  in  our  direction.  I  at  once  returned  to  our 
horses,  and  were  engaged  about  the  fixings  oi  my  saddle, 
when  a  loud  shout  told  us  we  were  discovered.  Leaving 
several  of  our  things  on  the  ground,  we  sprang  into  our 
seats,  but  soon  saw  the  impossibility  of  escape,  for  between 
twenty  and  thirty  savages  were  moving  round  us  in  a  circle, 
at  a  distance  of  about  fifty  yards.  We  could  not  see  them 
distinctly,  but  at  one  time  I  fancied  I  recognised  our  late 
vaqucano.  ?.nd  made  a  resolve  that,  if  it  came  to  fighting, 
he  should  serve  as  my  first  target. 

They  continued  riding  round  us  for  several  minutes,  and 
I  told  my  companion  on  no  account  to  fire,  unless  compelled 
to  do  so  in  sell-defence ;  but  while  I  was  speaking  one  of 
them  rode  forward  with  his  lance  pointed  towards  us,  and 
M.  Moustier,  being  the  nearest  to  him,  shot  him  down; 
he  fell  from  his  horse  without  a  groan. 

Expecting  what  was  to  follow,  1  called  to  my  companion 
to  dismount  immediately,  at  the  same  time  springing  from 
my  own  saddle  to  the  ground ;  but  before  M.  Moustier  had 


IN   THE   ARGENTINE   REPUBLIC. 


113 


f  ■ 


h* 


ON  THE   WATCH. 


done  the  same,  the  Indians  began  throwing  their  bolas^  and 
although  only  starlight,  they  brought  down  his  horse,  which, 
falling  on  his  leg,  held  him  securely  to  the  ground.  He  begged 
me  to  shoot  him,  and  not  leave  him  to  the  cruelties  of  the 


t  ih 


_F. 


^i4 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


savages ;  but  speaking  a  few  words  to  reassure  hifm,  I  cut 
the  thongs  of  the  bolas  which  were  round  the  hotse's  fore- 
legs, when  he  stood  up,  and  I  handed  him  to  M.  iMoustier, 
who  was  also  liberated;  then,  getting  my  own  horse  ranged 
alongside  the  other,  we  placed  ourselves  between  the  two. 
The  Indians  then  dashed  forward  to  us,  but  our  horses 
being  now  quieter,  we  aimed  and  fired  beneath  their  necks. 
Two  of  the  Indians  fell  from  their  horses,  wounded,  yelling 
fearfully ;  the  rest  fell  back,  and  commenced  throwing  their 
bolas.  Some  of  these,  first  striking  the  horses  on  the  back 
and  making  them  nearly  unmanageable,  flew  over  to  our 
shoulders,  which  we  afterwards  found  were  quite  black  from 
the  blows  ;  but  whenever  an  Indian  came  within  sure  range 
we  fired,  and  nearly  always  killed  or  wounded  him.  This 
continued  some  time,  until  a  dozen  of  their  number  lay 
on  the  ground,  some  dead  and  others  wounded,  uttering 
horrid  cries,  when  they  drew  off  some  little  distance. 
After  a  short  consultation,  four  of  their  number  remained 
on  their  horses  to  guard  us,  and  the  rest  dismounted  to  look 
after  those  on  the  ground.  Thinking  it  was  now  our  best 
chance  to  clear  off,  we  proceeded  to  mount ;  and  before  the 
savages  could  reach  us,  were  in  our  saddles.  In  the  hurry, 
my  revolver  fell  from  my  belt  to  the  ground,  and  having 
to  dismount  to  regain  it,  before  I  could  rise  again,  I  received 
a  thrust  from  a  spear  in  the  calf  of  my  left  leg.  The  pain 
was  intense,  but  I  got  into  my  saddle,  and  then  received 
another  thrust  in  my  right  thigh.  M.  Moustier  turned  and 
shot  down  the  Indian  who  had  wounded  me,  but  at  the  same 
moment  was  speared  in  the  neck  by  another  of  the  party. 
He  called  out  that  he  was  fainting ;  but,  reminding  him  of 
his  fa.e  if  he  should,  I  induced  him  to  set  off  as  fast  as  the 
horses  would  go.     Turning  at  the  same  time,  I  fired  my  last 


*^ 


IN   THE   ARGENTINE   REPUBLIC. 


"5 


.^ 


shot  amongst  our  three  remaining  foes,  which,  although 
doing  no  damage,  caused  them  to  desist  from  pursuit.  Had 
they  followed  us  we  should  have  been  easily  taken,  as  we 
had  no  more  cartridges  left,  and  their  horses  were  much 
better  than  ours. 

After  riding  some  time  without  slackening  speed,  the 
morning  dawned,  and  seeing  no  signs  of  the  Indians,  we 
determined  to  stop  at  the  side  of  a  laguna  which  was  now 
in  sight,  to  bind  up  our  wounds,  which  were  painful,  and 
made  us  very  thirsty  from  loss  of  blood.  After  dismounting, 
I  found  I  was  unable  to  stand,  owing  to  the  wound  in  my 
leg.  The  spear,  after  injuring  the  muscles,  had  broken  the 
small  bone  of  the  leg,  and  my  riding-boot  was  filled  with 
blood.  M.  Moustier's  wound  in  the  neck  proved  a  very  bad 
one,  the  spear  having  torn  away  the  flesh  for  a  space  of  two 
inches,  leaving  several  veins  and  nerves  exposed.  I  bound 
up  our  wounds  as  well  as  I  could  with  strips  of  linen  torn 
from  my  companion's  white  shirt,  my  own  being  coloured, 
and  we  then  laid  ourselves  down  to  rest. 

After  a  few  hours  I  attempted  to  re-mount,  but  was  too 
stiff  and  weak  to  do  so.  My  companion  then  suggested 
that  I  should  remain  where  I  was,  whilst  he  walked  to  a 
small  wood  at  a  little  distance,  to  see  if  he  could  shoot 
something  in  the  way  of  food,  as  we  only  had  a  few  biscuits 
with  us.  He  soon  returned  with  a  small  red  deer,  which  he 
had  caught  by  driving  it  before  him  into  the  brushwood, 
where  it  became  entangled  by  the  horns,  when  he  secured  it, 
made  2  soga  fast  around  its  neck,  and  drove  it  to  our  halting- 
place.  It  was  soon  killed  and  cooked,  affording  us  a  first- 
rate  dinner,  in  the  evening  a  supper,  and  a  breakfast  the 
next  morning ;  the  remaining  portion  being  carried  with  us 
for  use  the  next  day. 

12 


% 


i 


n 
4  If 


it^ 


'ii. 


ii6 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


We  remained  at  this  place  all  night,  but  in  the  morning, 
knowing  the  difficulty  of  reaching  Rio  Quarto  in  our  present 
condition,  we  decided  to  return  in  a  north-easterly  direc- 
tion, and,  if  possible,  regain  the  estancia  of  our  kind  friend, 
where  we  could  rest  for  a  while ;  but  not  knowing  which 
direction  we  had  taken  in  the  darkness,  when  flying  from 
the  Indians,  I  was  not  very  sanguine  of  doing  so.  We 
travelled  as  fast  as  our  wounds  would  allow  for  three  days, 
but  could  not  find  Mr.  Ball's  estancia.  On  the  fourth  morn- 
ing we  sighted  a  rancho  belonging  to  a  native,  and  on  riding 
up  to  it,  to  inquire  our  whereabouts,  he  invited  us  to 
dismount,  cooked  us  some  mutton,  made  matte  (native  tea) 
for  us,  and  after  we  had  remained  some  little  time  to  rest, 
mounted  his  horse  to  show  us  the  way  to  a  small  native 
village  about  four  leagues  distant,  named  Bellesteros,  or 
Esquina,  where  there  was  a  station  of  the  Central  Argentine 
Railway.  We  arrived  there  a  short  time  before  sunset,  find- 
ing a  small  village  consisting  only  of  mud  ranchos ;  but  as 
soon  as  our  good-natured  guide  mentioned  our  wounds,  and 
our  late  encounter  with  the  Indians,  every  one  of  the  in- 
habitants seemed  to  vie  one  with  another  in  kindness  to 
us,  and  we  were  soon  installed  in  one  of  the  best  dwell- 
ings, with  every  possible  attention.  We  remained  here,  very 
kindly  treated,  for  several  days,  during  which  time  my 
wounds  healed ;  but  my  leg  for  long  afterwards  caused  me 
acute  pain  whenever  I  attempted  to  walk. 

M.  Moustier's  neck  healed  but  slowly,  and  I  expect  the 
cure  was  hindered  by  his  habit  of  indulging  too  freely  in 
strong  drinks,  which  so  irritated  the  wound  that  in  a  few 
days  he  was  obliged  to  leave  by  train  for  Rosario,  to  avail 
himself  of  medical  advice.  I  should  have  accompanied  him 
had  my  leg  been  better,  but  thinking  that  only  rest  would 


1 


IN    THE   ARGENTINE   REPUBLIC 


117 


put  it  right,  I  decided  to  remain  where  I  was,  agreeing  to 
meet  him  again  in  a  few  weeks  at  Buenos  Ayres ;  but  for 
several  weeks  my  leg  remained  in  the  same  state,  until  a 
splinter  of  bone  worked  its  way  outwards,  when  it  was  well 
in  a  few  days. 

Before  leaving  the  neighbourhood,  I  paid  visits  to  some 
of  the  Scotch  settlers  I  had  met  in  Fraile  Muerto,  and  was 
most  hospitably  received,  finding  great  difficulty  in  leaving 
them.  When  I  passed  through  Rosario,  on  my  way  to 
Buenos  Ayres,  I  made  inquiry  for  M.  Moustier,  but  found 
that  after  remaining  a  few  days,  his  wound  getting  no  better 
he  had  taken  the  steamer  to  Buenos  Ayres,  to  enter  the 
hospital  there.  On  my  arrival  at  Buenos  Ayres,  and 
applying  at  the  hospital,  I  was  told  that  he  had  been  cured, 
and  left  for  Europe,  saying  he  had  seen  quite  enough  of 
South  America. 

Thus  ended  my  experience  of  frontier  travelling.  Although 
I  have  met  with  many  narrow  escapes  since,  in  Paraguay 
and  Brazil,  I  never  thought  myself  in  so  much  danger  as 
when  surrounded  by  the  Calchaqui  Indians. 


IN  PAWN  IN  AN  INDIAN  VILLAGE. 


-•o^ 


'^^•^ ,  <i 


ihll 


1 


A  FEW  years  ago  I  was  one  of  a  party  of  six  white  men  and 
two  Indians  who  left  Victoria,  Vancouver  Island,  on  a  little 
canoe  expedition,  ostensibly  a  mere  hunting  trip,  the  main 
object  of  which  with  most  of  us  being  to  search  for  some 
mines,  which  one  of  our  party  had  heard  of  from  the 
Indians.  One  or  two  had,  however,  like  myself,  joined 
in  it  more  from  a  love  of  adventure,  and  a  desire  to 
explore  the  then  entirely  unknown  interior  of  the  island, 
and  the  almost  equally  unknown  shores  and  creeks  which 
indent  the  coast,  than  from  any  other  motive.  As 
the  result  proved,  all  of  us  met  with  very  much  more  ad- 
venture than  we  had  bargained  for ;  and  I,  for  one,  went 
much  further  afield  than  I  had  any  intention  of  doing,  and 
saw  quite  enough  of  the  matted  interior  of  the  colony  of 
Vancouver  to  suffice  me  for  some  time  to  come. 

Our  crew  consisted  of  the  six  white  men  already 
mentioned,  and  two  native  Indians,  to  whom  the  canoe 
belonged ;  while  the  stores,  comprising  the  usual  frugal  fare 
of  the  North-western  explorer,  was  the  joint-stock  property 
of  us  ?'■  The  command  of  the  canoe  expedition  we 
conferrc  .  on  an  old  French  Canadian,  who  had  grown  grey 
as  a  trapper  amid  the  Western  wilds,  and  who  knew  almost 
every  Indian  tribe  between  York  Factory  and  Fort  Victoria. 


.. 


I 


IN    PAWN    IN    AN    INDIAN    VILLAGE. 


119 


OLD  PARLEYVOO. 


He  was  a  grizzled  old  fellow,  dressed,  with  even  an  approach, 
to  dandyism,  from  head  to  foot  in  a  gorgeous  beaded  suit 


I 


1.  I 


•        I: 


#-, 


120 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


ili: 


Ml 


^^ii 


of  buckskin,  while  in  cold  or  wet  weather  a  blue  cloth  capot 
was  thrown  over  the  whole.  It  was  his  continued  boast 
that  no  Indian  could  ever  "come  it  over  him  ;"  and  he  was 
ever  vowing  dire  vengeance  against  the  whole  race  should 
any  individual  member  of  it  dare  to  lay  finger  on  him.  Yet 
for  all  that  he  was  kind-hearted,  and  was  instantly  silent, 
and  almost  sad,  did  we  but  hint  at  the  wrinkled  squaw  and 
brood  of  black-eyed,  half-breed  children  who  escorted  him 
down  to  the  beach,  as  we  picked  him  up  at  his  "  ranch," 
a  few  miles  outside  of  Victoria.  "  Old  Parleyvoo,"  as  our 
admiring,  yet  withal  irreverent  party  styled  him,  was  always, 
except  when  his  absent  squaw  and  children  were  in  his 
mind,  in  splendid  spirits,  and  if  not  chewing  tobacco,  of 
which  he  consumed  immense  quantities,  was  carolling  out 
some  cheery  chanson  of  the  French  voyageur. 

For  the  first  fortnight  we  had  a  fine  time  of  it ;  every- 
thing went  as  well  as  could  be  desired.  The  weather  was 
magnificent ;  and  as  we  leisurely  paddled  or  sailed  along  the 
shore,  we  would  watch,  in  dreamy  admiration,  the  calm, 
silent  quiet  of  the  wooded  scene ;  or  we  would  land  on 
some  point,  and  hunt  for  a  day  or  two,  rarely  or  ever 
returning  at  night  without  a  plentiful  supply  of  game. 
Sometimes  we  halted  at  some  of  the  little  sleepy  Indian 
^villages  which  dotted  the  shores  at  intervals  of  twenty  or 
thirty  miles,  or  we  would  be  visited  by  some  wandering 
canoe-man,  tempted  by  curiosity  or  the  hope  of  a  supper. 
At  night  we  would  encamp  on  some  of  the  many  wooded 
islands,  or  on  the  grassy  little  meadows  which  skirt  some  of 
the  many  streams,  ever  and  again  gurgling  over  rocks  and 
pebbles  to  the  sea ;  and  then,  smoking  our  pipes  full  length 
on  the  grass,  we  would  talk  over  the  day's  work  and  the 
morrow's  plans,  until  the  darkness  coming  on,  we  would  roll 


1 


^^^t 


IN    PAWN    IN   AN    INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


121 


ourselves  in  our  blankets  and  go  to  sleep.  Next  morning 
we  were  up  betimes,  and  with  light  hearts  went  paddling 
away  northward.  I  think,  for  my  own  part,  that  these  were 
some  of  the  happiest  days  of  my  life.  The  never-varying 
good  humour  and  honest  mirth  of  my  companions,  the  free, 
careless  life,  independent  of  all  the  world,  and  the  calm 
scenery  of  wooded  islands  and  distant  snow-capped  moun- 
tain-tops seemed  to  exercise  a  soothing  influence  over  our 
spirits,  and  cause  us  to  look  on  the  whole  world  with  a 
kindlier  feeling  than,  usually,  in  the  jaundiced  atmosphere 
of  busy,  moiling,  toiling  civilisation,  it  is  possible  to  do. 
When  we  did  think  of  cities  and  men,  it  was  with  a  kind  of 
pity,  as  of  something  we  had  long  ago  escaped  from,  and 
would  never  again  return  to. 

The  adventures  we  met  with,  though  perhaps  under 
other  circumstances  worth  recording,  were  really,  however, 
of  such  a  quiet  nature  as  only  to  add  a  zest  to  our  hearty 
venison  or  grouse  supper,  and  not  calculated  to  disturb 
much  the  even  tenor  of  our  way.  Now  we  halted  at  an 
Indian  village  and  shared  in  a  great  "  potlatch  "  feast ;  or  we 
would  visit  some  lonely  trader  or  settler ;  or  be  disturbed  at 
night  by  an  alarm  of  marauding  Indians,  visiting  us  with 
evil  intent ;  or  for  days  we  would  paddle  along  without 
meeting  a  human  being.  Under  the  excitement  of  the 
adventures  attending  the  latter  part  of  our  expedition,  these 
only  now  linger  in  our  memory  as  faded  reminiscences, 
which  sometimes  start  up  before  us,  but  with  that  hazy 
indistinctness  which  leaves  us  in  doubt  whether  they  are 
actual  things  which  have  happened  to  us,  or  are  only 
dreams,  or  something  we  have  read  in  a  story-book  in  the 
days  of  boyhood. 

But  our  peaceful  life  was  now  giving  way  to  more  stirring 


l\ 


4^ 


122 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


i 
1 


it 


\l 


days.  By  the  beginning  of  the  third  week  we  had  got  into 
Johnstone's  Strait,  a  narrow  sea-passage  which  separates 
Vancouver  Island  from  the  mainland  of  British  Columbia, 
and  wild  and  solitary  in  the  extreme.  When  we  were  about 
the  middle  of  this  strait  the  Indians  steered  the  canoe  to 
the  westward,  and  entered  the  mouth  of  a  little  river  which 
flowed  from  the  interior  of  the  island  into  the  sea  at  this 
point.  The  coast  was  but  roughly  surveyed,  so  that  I 
do  not  now  recollect  if  any  name  had  been  given  to  it  on 
our  charts.  The  Indians  called  it  the  "  Hkuskan,"  which 
name,  with  some  change  to  accommodate  the  jaw-breaking 
agglomeration  of  consonants  to  our  tongues,  we  adopted. 
At  the  mouth  of  the  river  was  a  small  Indian  village  of  the 
Nimpkish  tribe,  who  were  busily  engaged  in  spearing  salmon 
in  the  stream.  With  them  we  left  our  fine  large  canoe, 
taking  in  exchange  a  smaller  shallow  one,  more  suited  for 
ascending  the  rapid  river.  The  canoe  was  too  small  for  all 
our  party ;  accordingly  the  two  Indians,  with  old  Parleyvoo 
and  our  stores,  were  placed  in  the  canoe,  while  the  rest 
of  us  walked  along  the  wooded  banks,  meeting  the  canoe 
at  night,  and  now  and  then  assisting  the  canoe  party  in 
'*poHng  it"  up  the  more  rapid  portion  of  the  stream, 
dragging  it  over  rapids ;  or  when,  as  not  unfrequehtly  hap- 
pened, waterfalls  entirely  interrupted  our  progress,  we  would 
assist  them  in  carrying  the  canoe  and  the  effects  overland. 
The  whole  journey  was  most  laborious,  while  to  add  to  our 
troubles,  we  had  to  subsist  almost  entirely  on  coffee,  bread, 
and  a  modicum  of  bacon.  Our  beans — that  staple  food  of 
travellers  in  this  region — had  failed  us  ;  and  as  long  as  we 
were  in  the  region  of  the  Indians'  travel,  not  a  deer  could 
be  seen.  On  the  fourth  day,  however,  the  stream  began  to 
get  calmer,  and  we  emerged  on  a  beautiful  lake,  embosomed 


t 


111' 


\ 


IN   PAWN    IN   AN    INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


123 


i 


t 


amid  the  snow-capped  mountains  around.     Up  this  lake, 
which  was  some  ten  or  twelve  miles  in  length,  we  sailed 


MUCHLAHT  INDIANS' 


in  parties  of  three,  until  we  were  all  landed  at  the 
head  of  it,  at  the  mouth  of  another  stream  flowing  through 
a  valley.      It   was   in  this   district  that  the  two  Indians 


'4'. 


124 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


i\' 


1  '(  ' 

'  i  ■ 


hf: 


■I 


had  once,  on  a  hunting  excursion,  far  beyond  the  usual 
haunts  of  their  tribe,  found  the  rich  gold-quartz  "  lead"  which 
we  were  in  search  of  We  saw  it,  and  to  save  all  further 
trouble,  we  may  as  well  mention — what  we  had  all  along 
been  suspicious  of — that  this  El  Dorado,  Yikc  many  others 
which  the  natives  will  ever  now  and  again  lead  you  to,  was 
nothing  more  than  iron  pyrites,  and  worthless.  Gold  was 
afterwards  discovered  in  the  colony,  but  we  were  not,  on  this 
occasion  at  least,  to  be  the  fortunate  finders. 

After  we  had  roundly  abused  our  Indians  for  leading  us 
this  wild-goose  chase,  and  they  had,  in  consequence,  sulked 
for  a  day  or  two,  we  forgot  the  whole  affair,  and  set  to  work 
to  see  if  we  could  not  find  a  recompense  for  our  loss  and 
disappointment.  This  we  were  not  long  in  finding.  The 
whole  valley  seemed  perfectly  alive  with  deer,  and  the  com- 
parative coolness  of  this  snow-capped  region  had  not  driven 
them  to  the  mountains,  where,  on  the  sultrier  coast,  they 
usually  go  in  summer  to  avoid  the  swarms  of  mosquitoes  ; 
while  the  stream  flowing  into  the  lake  and  a  neighbouring 
swamp  were  swarming  with  beaver.  We  found  abundant 
employment  now.  The  deer  supplied  us  with  food,  though 
their  skins  were  much  too  bulky  to  be  worth  keeping.  The 
beaver,  however,  though  worth  nothing  like  what  they  once 
were,  were  yet  worth  preserving.  In  the  course  of  ten  days 
we  had  killed  no  less  than  forty-seven,  and  though  our  flour 
was  now  exhausted,  yet  we  still  continued  in  the  neighbour- 
hood, charmed  by  the  lovely  weather  and  the  rare  sport  of 
beaver-hunting,  alternated  with  a  right  royal  bear-chase. 
We  had  abundance  of  salt  and  ammunition,  so  that  we 
experienced,  after  a  while,  no  inconvenience  from  the  want 
of  civilised  stores.  Besides,  we  were  all  old  travellers,  who 
had  long  been  accustomed  to  such  mishaps.     The  only  one 


] 


t 


.. 


Li 
O 


■J 

A 

O 
;> 

-1 

a" 
I' 


i 


4' 


IN   PAWN   IN   AN   INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


127 


1 


1 


of  the  party  who  was  at  all  inconvenienced  was  old  Par- 
leyvoo, who,  conscious  that  we  were  far  beyond  the  usual 
range  of  the  Indians,  was  never  weary  of  expressing  his 
wishes  that  we  should  come  across  some  of  them,  and,  for 
reasons  not  stated,  inflict  dire  vengeance  on  their  devoted 
race.  Our  life,  though  without  anxiety,  was,  it  must  be 
acknowledged,  getting  rather  monotonous,  and  after  some 
days  I,  for  my  part,  began  to  weary  for  a  change  in  the  life 
of  killing  and  eating  deer,  and  killing  and  eating  (and 
dressing  the  skins  of)  beaver.  Besides,  beaver-tail,  though 
perhaps  wondrously  good  as  a  luxury,  becomes  somewhat 
tiresome  to  masticate  for  breakfast,  dinner,  and  supper. 

It  was,  I  think,  on  the  morning  of  the  eleventh  or  twelfth 
day  of  our  life  at  ''Beaver  Camp"  that  I  set  out  alone, 
for  the  purpose  of  seeing  if  I  could  find  some  grouse  or 
other  game  to  vary  the  monotony  of  our  diet.  Hitherto  our 
keenness  in  the  pursuit  of  beaver  had  not  allowed  of  our 
travelling  very  far  afield.  The  day  was  cool  and  pleasant, 
and  mile  after  mile  I  almost  unconsciously  wandered  away 
from  camp,  until  I  found  myself  ascending  the  snow-capped 
range  which  surrounded  the  lake.  The  ascent  of  its  wooded 
slope  was  easy,  and  the  "  squeak !  squeak  ! "  of  the  mar- 
mots, which  attracted  my  attention  on  every  side,  stimulated 
me  to  gain  the  summit.  By  noon  I  had  reached  the  snow, 
and  sat  admiring  the  fair  yet  solitary  scene  which  lay  stretched 
at  my  feet.  The  lake  I  could  see  so  distinctly  that  it 
seemed  as  if  I  could  reach  it  almost  at  a  leap,  and  forgetting 
the  distance  I  had  come,  and  conscious  that  my  return 
would  be  much  easier  than  my  upward  travel,  I  wandered 
along  the  ridge,  attracted  by  the  marmots  and  the  ptarmigan 
(which  for  the  first  time  I  had  seen  in  the  mountains  of  the 
island),  until  the  day  was  declining.     Overcome  with  fatigue. 


ii 


u^ 


t' 


128 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


¥', 


I  sat  down  in  a  shady  hollow  among  some  rocks  to  rest. 
How  long  I  dozed  I  cannot  say  ;  but  when  I  awoke  I  was 
astonished  to  find  that  it  was  six  o*clock  in  the  evening,  and 
that  a  dense  fog  covered  all  the  fair  landscape  of  a  few  hours 
before.  I  was  now  thoroughly  alarmed,  and  started  to  my 
feet  to  return  to  camp;  but  after  walking  a  few  hundred 
yards,  I  found  to  my  horror  that  I  had  quite  forgotten  to 
note  in  what  direction  the  camp  lay.  I  had  looked  upon 
the  familiar  lake  as  such  an  unfailing  guide  that,  though  I 
had  a  compass  in  my  pocket,  I  had  entirely  omitted  to  keep 
the  run  of  my  path.  Still  I  was  convinced  it  lay  in  the 
direction  I  was  travelling,  and  I  started  off  with  all  speed 
— for  the  sun,  I  could  see  through  the  fog,  was  beginning 
to  get  low,  even  in  this  long  July  day.  I  was  now  again 
descending  tlie  slope  of  the  mountain,  and  was  in  high 
spirits,  for  I  knew  I  could,  not  be  far  out  if  I  got  to  the 
lake  ;  but  still  I  ,vjuld  not  see  the  light  unwooded  space 
which,  even  in  the  fog,  could  be  distinguished  from  the 
dark  woods  around.  It  was  now  getting  so  dark  that  I 
feared  to  stumble  over  the  fallen  wood  and  cHffs,  and  sat 
down  on  the  stump  of  a  tree  to  consider  my  position.  That 
I  was  lo&t  I  did  not  like  to  acknowledge  to  myself.  Again 
and  again  I  looked  at  my  compass,  and  again  and  again 
was  forced  to  confess  that  I  was  perfectly  bewildered.  I 
could  not,  to  save  the  life  of  me — and  my  life  seemed  in  a 
fair  way  of  being  lost  if  I  didn't — recollect  how  the  camp  lay 
in  reference  to  the  mountain  I  had  ascended  in  the  morning, 
and  was  now  descending.  The  lake  I  could  picture,  and 
the  camp  I  could  picture,  but  there  were  so  many  mountains 
all  around  that  the  more  I  thought  of  it  the  more  confused 
I  became.  , 

Finally,  I  resolved  that  I  would  wait  until  mornina,  and 


IN   PAWN   IN   AN   INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


129 


see  what  the  rising  of  the  sun  would  bring  forth.  I  now 
began  to  take  an  inventory  of  my  resources  in  the  way  of 
housekeeping  for  a  night  in  the  wilds.  Blanket  I  had  none ; 
but,  luckily,  the  chilliness  of  the  morning  had  induced  me, 
contrary  to  my  wont,  to  put  on  my  many-pocketed  coat  and 
waistcoa-t,  and  by  accident  I  had  put  a  piece  of  soap  in  one 
pocket  while  wasliing  at  the  lake  in  the  morning.  I  had  a 
big  "  stick  "  of  tobacco,  and  my  powder-horn  was  full.  Of 
caps  and  bullets  I  had  enough,  and  my  revolver  was  on  my 
hip,  more  from  long  usage  than  from  any  necessity,  and  on 
the  other  side  was  my  sheath  hunting-knife.  I  had  my  rifle ; 
so  that  as  far  as  lethal  weapons  went,  I  was  tolerably  well 
anned,  though  I  did  not  like  to  think  that,  possibly,  by-and- 
by  I  might  require  to  use  them.  Shot  after  shot  I  fired,  but 
the  only  response  I  got  was  the  mocking  echo  among  the 
wooded  hills,  until  at  last  I  became  aware  that  I  was  only 
wasting  my  valuable  ammunition.  It  was  now  getting  cold, 
and  the  raw  fog  was  penetrating  into  my  very  bones.  I  could 
also  hear  the  wolves  howling  in  the  mountains,  so  that  a 
fire  became  doubly  necessary.  After  diligent  search  in 
my  pocket,  I  found  four  fusees.  These,  instinctively — 
even  against  my  inclination  to  harbour  such  an  idea — I 
felt  that  I  must  husband  against  an  evil  day.  Accord- 
iiiT^'V  I  carefully  selected  one,  and  the  others  I  put  by, 
\vrru)T  .d  up  in  a  bit  of  paper,  against  contingencies. 
Pluckli.g  some  of  the  dry  moss  which  was  all  around,  I  laid 
it  aside;  then,  gathering  some  twigs,  1  prepared  a  place 
for  them,  and  striking  the  fusee,  I  pushed  it  into  the  ball  of 
moss,  and  twirled  it  round  and  round  until  it  burst  into 
flame.  Now  for  sticks ;  then  for  more,  until  I  had  a  good 
fire  built,  and  it  was  capable  of  supporting  the  very  log  I 
was  sitting  on.     This  I  rolled  in,  and  my  anxiety  as  to  a 

J 


■I 


130 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


fire  was  at  an  end.  I  tore  the  skin  off  a  grouse  and  roasted 
it  for  supper,  for  I  had  killed  several  in  the  course  of  the 
day,  and  had  three  of  them  slung  over  my  back,  and  then, 
wearied,  I  sank  to  sleep.  Before  daylight  I  was  awoke  by 
the  cold.  The  fire  had  burnt  out,  and  the  fog  had  settled 
down  into  a  drizzling  rain,  which  seemed  to  wet  one  without 
having  the  courage  to  do  it  openly !  So  it  appeared,  at  least 
to  my  fancy,  as  I  tried  to  blow  up  the  fire  afresh.  In  this  I 
failed ;  and  as  I  could  not  afford  to  waste  another  fiisee,  I 
sat  down  by  the  ashes  until  daylight  dawned.  It  was  not 
my  first  night  in  the  woods  alone,  bnt  it  was  my  first  under 
the  circumstances  I  now  found  myi:  *  1.  My  thoughts 
were  not  of  the  pleasantest,  nor  my  spAi  .s  of  the  highest ; 
still  I  could  not  but  watch  with  interest  the  tall  trees  light- 
ing up,  one  after  another,  as  the  sun  rose,  and  anxiously  I 
peered  through  the  gloom,  hoping  to  see  the  lake  almost  at 
my  feet.  But  I  looked  in  vain.  I  was  still,  however,  con- 
vinced that  it  could  not  be  far  off.  So,  as  soon  as  I  could 
see,  I  started  off,  breakfastless,  in  the  supposed  direction  of 
the  lake.  The  rain  had  now  commenced  to  fall  in  a  steady 
pour — a  thorough  wet  summer  day — and,  what  with  the  rain 
itself  and  the  wet  bushes,  I  became  thoroughly  wet  to  the 
skin.  But  other  anxieties  kept  me  from  being  annoyed 
with  such  trifles.  The  ground  was  wet,  and  the  fallen 
timber,  along  which  I  had  often  to  travel  for  considerable 
distances,  was  slippery  to  a  degree  which  threatened  danger 
to  my  limbs,  if  I  fell  very  much  oftener.  One  awkward  fall 
I  had,  which  did  not  break  my  leg,  but  did  the  very  next 
worst  thing  to  it — smashed  my  pocket-compass  so  irre- 
trievably as  to  render  it  useless.  I  felt  very  tired,  but  still 
I  kept  on,  my  mind  sometimes  outstripping  my  heels  in 
speed,  so  that,  despite  the  ground,  I  would  start  off  running, 


=1 


\  » 


IN   PAWN   IN   AN   INDIAN  VILLAGE. 


131 


expecting  that  possibly  I  might  have  got  into  some  bye- 
valley  off  the  lake,  and  would  sight  its  welcome  waters 
every  minute. 

In  the  course  of  the  morning  I  fell  across  a  stream, 
which  imn  jdiately  revived  my  spirits,  though  it  flowed  in 
a  direction  which,  in  spite  of  my  haziness  in  reference 
to  the  position  of  the  lake,  I  felt  was  not  in  the  proper 
course  for  me.  But  streams  in  mountain  regions  take  so 
many  sudden  windings  that  this  did  not  disquiet  me,  and  I 
hugged  the  idea  that  it  must  be  the  stream  on  which  we  had 
killed  so  many  beavers.  Inspirited  by  the  thought,  I  got 
new  life  into  me,  and  followed  its  course  as  near  as  I  could 
for  some  hours.  Still  it  did  not  flow  into  the  lake.  How- 
ever, I  kept  on  until,  to  my  joy,  I  saw  an  opening  in  the 
forest,  and  in  a  few  minutes  more  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  a 
sheet  of  water.  Here  at  last  was  the  lake  ;  and,  expecting 
every  moment  to  see  our  camp,  I  sat  down  and  fired  a  shot 
or  two  to  herald  my  arrival.  Alas  !  I  had  "  hallooed  before 
I  was  out  of  the  wood,"  for  my  disappointment  and  mortifi- 
cation were  extreme  when  I  found,  on  reaching  the  shore, 
that  this  was  not  our  lake  !  On  the  contrary,  it  was  a  long 
marsh-bordered  one,  wending  away  in  among  the  hills,  but 
in  breadth  not  exceeding  one  eighth  of  a  mile.  A  high  ridge 
hid  the  view  beyond.  Mortified  beyond  measure,  I  sat 
down  and  could  have  wept  for  very  grief  and  anger ;  but 
anger  would  do  me  no  good  now.  Beyond  a  doubt  I  had 
descended  the  western  instead  of  the  eastern  slope  of  the 
ridge  I  had  ascended  the  day  before,  and  that  between  me 
and  my  camp  there  were  at  least  two  good  days'  journey — 
even  if  I  could  be  certain  of  finding  it  again.  This  was 
enough  to  discourage  me. 

There  was  nothing  for  it  now  but  to  make  the  best  ot 

J  2 


*', 


132 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


t:: 


my  way  to  the  sea  on  the  west  coast,  which  I  was  certain 
could  not  be  far  distant,  and  there  take  my  chance  of  faUing 
in  with  the  Indians,  and  either  getting  a  canoe  from  them  to 
the  saw-mills  of  Alberni  (the  only  white  settlement  along 
the  whole  extent  of  that  wild,  savage  coast),  or  of  meeting 
with  some  of  the  trading  schooners  which,  I  well  knew, 
visited  the  Indian  villages  that  for  some  hundreds  of  miles 
dotted  the  quiet  bay  and  inlets  of  the  western  shores.  I 
was  the  more  determined  in  this  because  I  recollected  that 
an  effort  to  reach  the  western  coast  had  been  talked  of 
before  I  left  our  camp,  and  a  faint  hope  existed  that 
before  long  my  companions  might  follow  me  up.  Hope 
or  not,  I  must  make  an  effort.  The  few  hours  of  daylight 
which  remained  I  spent  in  lighting  a  fire  and  cooking 
another  of  my  grouse,  and  exploring  the  neighbourhood  to 
determine  a  route  for  the  morrow.  To  follow  the  lake 
around  I  was  convinced  would  be  useless :  to  cross  it  was 
my  only  chance.  But  how  ?  While  I  was  eating  my  half- 
raw  grouse  I  thought  out  the  matter.  To  swim  it  would 
be  to  me  the  easiest  thing  in  the  world  ;  but  I  had  encum- 
brances. I  had  my  rifle,  and  to  keep  it  from  wet  was  to  me 
a  very  important  matter — as,  indeed,  also  my  revolver,  and 
my  powder  most  of  all.  I  must  cross  the  lake  on  a  raft. 
But  I  had  no  axe  wherewith  to  construct  one.  There  were 
a  number  of  cedar-trees  in  the  vicinity — the  lightest  de- 
scription of  all  Western  woods,  and  generally  used  to  make 
rafts.  After  searching  about  I  found  a  fallen  one  broken 
into  several  pieces,  two  of  which  I  thought  would  suit  my 
purpose,  if  I  could  get  something  with  which  to  bind  them 
together.  I  had  no  time  to  make  a  rope  of  cedar  bark,  as 
I  had  seen  the  Indians  do.  But  just  then  the  problem  was 
solved.     As  I  was  sitting  on  the  broken  fallen  tree  a  deer 


|::n 


m    PAWN    IN   AN    INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


^A 


133 


came  down  to  the  water  to  drink.  It  seemed  never  to 
have  seen  a  human  being  before,  and  though  it  started 
at  the  sight  of  me,  its  curiosity  soon  regained  mastery, 
and  it  ambled  up  to  near  where  I  was  sitting.  To  put  a 
ball  in  behind  its  shoulders  was  an  easy  task.  It  was 
accompanied  by  a  fawn,  which  continually  bleated  around 
as  I  was  cutting  it  up.  As  the  fawn  was  in  the  sucking 
state,  it  would  only  starve  to  death,  so,  in  pity,  I  put  a 
revolver  bullet  through  it.  I  felt,  as  I  sat  beside  the  two 
dead  animals,  hungry  as  I  was  and  little  inclined  for  senti- 
ment, almost  like  a  murderer  who  had  come  into  their  quiet 
domain.  But  this  did  not  prevent  me  slicing  off  the  best 
pieces  and  cooking  a  supply  on  sticks  by  the  fire.  In  this 
manner  I  roa  >ted,  against  contingencies  of  no  fire  and  food, 
enough  for  about  two  days.  These  venison-steaks  I  secured 
in  my  capacious  coat-pockets,  and  having  done  so  I  felt 
almost  happy,  though  the  thought  of  the  unknown  tramp 
which  lay  before  me  somewhat  abated  my  jubilations. 
The  sun  now  beginning  to  set  on  the  other  side  of  the 
ridge,  served  in  place  of  my  compass  and  directed  my 
way. 

To  make  a  cord  out  of  three  strips  of  the  raw  hide  of 
the  deer  was  not  a  very  difficult  matter,  and  with  this  I 
bound  together  two  of  the  broken  pieces  of  the  cedar-tree, 
making  a  rude,  but — as  I  knew  by  experience — serviceable 
raft  for  all  the  duties  which  would  be  required  of  it. 
Whilst  I  was  looking  about  for  a  cedar-tree,  out  of  which 
to  cut  a  sheet  of  bark,  to  form  a  rough  kind  of  paddle,  I 
noticed  here  and  there  that  pieces  of  bark  had  been  cut 
out  of  some  of  the  trees  which  grew  near  the  lake.  These 
I  knew  well  enough  to  be  "  Indian  sign  " —  marks  that 
Indians  who  had  been  here  for  some  time  had  cut  these 


*'. 


134 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


I 

I* 


'I 


m 


pieces  out  to  make  one  of  the  many  utensils  which  the 
north-west  coast  Indians  form  out  of  the  bark  of  this  tree. 
The  **sign"  was,  however,  very  old,  and  gave  me  no  alarm. 
While  thinking  over  this  I  began  gathering  sticks  for  my 
watch-fire  and  moss  to  make  a  bed.  Close  to  where  I  had 
built  my  fire  was  a  mossy  bank,  and  this  I  attacked 
vigorously.  Scarcely  had  I  removed  an  armful  than  a  sorry 
sight  met  my  eyes.  It  was  something  white,  which,  even  in 
the  uding  twilight,  I  had  no  difficulty  in  recognising  as  a 
human  skeleton.  Familiar  as  I  had  been  with  the  mournful 
trappings  of  death,  I  started  back  with  a  cry  of  horror  as  my 
fingers  touched  these  human  remains.  The  bones  were 
very  old,  and  dropped  asunder  as  they  were  disturbed. 
The  incident  was  a  melancholy  one,  and  as  I  lay  down  by 
my  fire  I  could  not  help  thinking  over  the  probable  tale  of 
the  dead  man,  whose  bleached  and  moss-covered  skeleton 
was  lying  a  few  feet  from  me.  Could  he  have  been  a  lost 
wanderer  like  myself,  who  had  died  here  of  hunger,  or  had 
he  been  killed  in  war  ?  But  that  could  not  be,  for  his  head 
was  not  severed,  and  all  these  tribes  take  the  heads  of  their 
slain  enemies.  Much  as  I  thought  about  the  fate  of  this 
man  I  could  make  nothing  out  of  it ;  and  I  may  mention 
that,  though  afterwards  I  made  diligent  inquiry,  I  could 
learn  nothing  about  him.  None  of  the  Indians  on  the 
opposite  coast  knew  anything  of  the  region  I  was  in,  or 
had  ever  heard  of  any  one  having  gone  so  far  into  the 
interior.  Possibly  he  might  have  been  a  beaver-trapper  on 
the  lake,  and  had  a  canoe  ;  but  that,  with  his  brush  lodge, 
must  have  long  ago  decayed,  for  the  bones  were  at  least 
thirty  or  forty  years  old. 

The  fire  was  warm  and  the  mossy  couch  pleasant,  so, 
in  spite  of  the  want  of  a  blanket,  wearied  as  I  was  with  my 


^A 


111 


IN   PAWN    IN  /y   INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


135 


eventful  day's  exertion,  I  lay  down  to  sleep,  perhaps  not 
in  the  same  frame  of  mind  as  on  the  previous  night,  but 
yet,  so  easily  do  we  accommodate  ourselves  to  mis- 
fortune, even  more  hopeful  on  the  whole.  In  my  sleep  I 
dreamt  of  the  dead  Indian,  who  would  ever  and  anon  appear 
to  me,  like  the  Ancient  Mariner,  telling  of  the  accident 
which  had  befallen  him — how  he  had  broken  a  limb  here, 
and  had  been  left  to  die.  Then  my  companions  would 
make  their  appearance,  and  once  or  twice  I  suddenly  awoke, 
startled  by  their  shouts  from  amid  the  gloom  of  the  forest. 
So  life-like  were  their  cries  that  I  could  scarcely  convince 
myself,  in  my  half-sleepy  state,  that  I  had  not  really  heard 
them ;  but  I  soon  dropped  asleep  again,  persuaded  that  I 
had  taken  too  heavy  a  supper,  and  was  troubled  with  night- 
mare. Then  I  dreamt  that  I  was  really  dead,  and  that  I 
could  hear  (ridiculous  as  was  the  idea)  the  Indian  women 
howling  over  me.  These  howls  increased  in  intensity  until 
they  awoke  me,  and  I  started  up  from  among  the  moss, 
certain,  this  time,  that  they  were  real.  As  I  jumped  up, 
I  could  see  something  moving  by  the  side  of  my  half- 
burnt-out  fire. 

Dreaming  as  I  had  been  for  the  last  hour  or  two  about 
the  dead  Indian,  I  rubbed  my  eyes  once  or  twice  before  I 
could  collect  my  ideas  sufficiently  to  believe  that  it  was  not 
him  in  reality.  Long  accustomed  to  night  alarms,  I  in- 
stinctively sprang  into  the  darkness  in  order  to  determine 
who  was  my  visitor.  Just  then  the  fire  caught-  iome  dry- 
twigs,  and  I  could  see  by  the  flame  that  my  visitor  was  a 
large  blackish-grey  wolf  I  was  not  niUch  assured  by  this, 
and  do  not  know  whether,  at  the  time,  I  would  not  as  soon 
have  welcomed  the  dead  Indian  ;  for  though  these  Western 
wolves  are  not  so  fierce  as  the  "  grey  beast  o(  Pyrenean 


3'li 


td 


<#<> 


136 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


snows,"  yet,  collecting  as  they  do  in  packs,  and  impelled  by 
hunger,  they  are  by  no  means  pleasant  companions  in  a 
lonely  forest.  I  had  a  shot  in  my  rifle,  and  could  easily 
have  laid  it  low ;  but  I  had  no  intention  of  wasting  a  ball 
on  it.  Accordingly  I  gave  a  shout  that  awoke  all  the 
sleeping  echoes  of  the  forest,  and,  as  the  animal  bounded 
off,  the  yells  which  answered  its  howl  from  all  around, 
answering  and  calhng,  made  my  very  blood  run  cold.  I 
knew  they  were  the  gathering  cries  of  the  wolves  )  Instantly 
I  seized  some  wood  and  heaped  up  the  fire  until  its  glare 
illuminated  the  forest  for  a  hundred  yards  around.  Still  I 
heaped  on  more  and  more — for  in  this  I  knew  was  my 
safety — until  the  beavers,  who  had  their  houses  among  the 
reeds  by  the  lake,  attracted  by  the  unusual  glare  which  shot 
over  the  solitary  water,  swam  up  to  see  what  all  the  stir  meant, 
and  I  could  hear,  in  the  intervals  of  the  unearthly  howls 
which  now  greeted  my  ears  from  far  and  near,  their  tails 
slapping  the  water  in  their  puzzled  astonishment.  Attracted 
by  the  smell  of  the  venison  which  I  had  been  roasting  the 
evening  befoie,  the  wolves  had  come  on  a  visit  to  me,  and, 
to  my  horror,  I  could  hear  their  howls  coming  nearer  and 
nearer.  However,  I  knew  that,  so  long  as  the  darkness 
remained,  the  glare  of  the  fire  would  keep  them  off ;  but  I 
was  afraid  that  they  might  attack  me  in  the  morning ;  and, 
supposmg  that  my  raft  failed  !  The  thought  of  having  my 
bones  picked  by  wolves  made  me  shudder ;  and  the  sight  of 
a  pair  of  prick  ears  and  a  lank  body  every  now  and  again 
appearing  on  the  border  of  the  light  and  darkness  in  no 
way  added  to  my  comfort.  I  had  little  time  to  think,  for  I 
was  busily  occupied  in  heaping  wood  on  the  fire,  and  to 
make  assurance  doubly  sure,  I  set  fire  to  a  heap  of  fallen 
trees  which  lay  a  little  way  off,  and  stood  between  the  two 


I 


IN   PAWN    IN   AN   INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


137 


fires.  I  had  an  anxious  time  of  it  for  the  rest  of  the  night, 
and  never,  I  think,  did  sorely  tried  son  of  earth  more  gladly 
welcome  the  red  ball  of  the  sun  rising  over  the  trees  than 
I  did  that  morning.  The  rain  of  yesterday  had  entirely 
disappeared,  but  a  fog  arose  from  the  steaming  ground, 
which  still  acted  as  a  screen  to  my  enemies,  who  kept  up  a 
horrible  chorus  of  howls  out  in  the  woods.  However,  I  did 
not  wait  to  breakfast ;  but,  throwing  some  lighted  brands 
on  the  mossy  ground  in  hopes  of  firing  it,  I  pushed  my  little 
raft  into  the  water,  and  seizing  the  bark  paddle  and  a  pole, 
which  had  been  prepared  the  night  before,  I  pushed  into 
the  lake.  For  a  time  I  was  afraid  it  was  going  to  ground 
on  the  mud,  but  after  being  up  to  my  breast  in  water,  I 
gave  a  shout  ol  gladness  as  the  logs  floated  in  deep  water, 
and  I  found  that,  though  my  legs  were  hanging  in  the  water 
— for  safety,  not  from  necessity — and  the  raft  sank  a  few 
inches,  it  bore  my  weight  well,  and  that  I  could  make 
progress — slow,  but  certain.  Just  then  the  sun  rose  up  and 
the  fog  cleared  away.  In  a  few  minutes  my  fire  ashore  was 
surrounded  by  the  pack  of  wolves,  yelling  and  fighting  over 
the  bodies  of  the  deer.  They  stood  for  a  moment  gazing 
wistfully  at  me  as  I  moved  from  the  shore,  and  one  or  two 
sprang  into  the  water,  and  looked  as  if  they  would  have 
swum  after  me.  However,  to  my  great  relief  they  turned 
back,  alter  a  few  yards,  and  set  to  work  with  the  rest  of  the 
pack  to  pick  the  bones  of  the  fawn  and  its  mother.  A 
gentle  breeze  which  began  to  ripple  the  surface  of  the  lake 
iielped  my  progress,  and  I  rejoiced  to  see  the  opposite 
shore  gradually  approaching.  The  lake  seemed  to  be  full 
of  trout,  which  I  could  see  swimming  up  in  the  clear  water, 
and,  even  had  I  cared  to  stop  to  catch  them,  I  had  no 
time  or  materials  for  so  doing. 


I 


1< 


n 

<■.>.■■ . 

If 


n 


■) 


138 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


In  less  than  an  hour  the  little  raft  grated  on  the  mud  on 
the  opposite  shore.  Then,  with  a  feeling  of  joy  that  paid 
me  for  all  the  terrors  of  the  last  few  hours,  I  unfastened 
my  rifle  from  my  shoulders,  and  throwing  it  ashore,  jumped 
into  the  water,  and  waded  to  the  land,  though  not  with- 
out danger  of  sinking  into  the  ooze.  After  washing  the 
mud  from  my  boots  and  trousers,  and  wringing  them  out,  I 
climbed  the  little  ridge  to  look  out  on  the  country  beyond. 
As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  there  stretched  an  undulating, 
but,  on  the  whole,  flat,  wooded  country ;  while,  limiting  all, 
was  another  such  ridge  as  the  one  I  was  standing  on.  This 
I  fixed  as  my  landmark,  towards  which,  after  eating  some 
of  my  venison-steaks  and  resting  a  little,  I  set  oft'  with  a 
cheerful  and  determined  spirit. 

That  night  I  slept  in  the  forest,  and  next  day  I  again 
trudged  along,  tearing  through  bushes  and  across  swampy 
flats,  over  streams  and  over  fallen  timber,  again  sinking 
down  at  night  in  the  moss,  which  now  served  me  both  for 
bed  and  blanket.  My  fusees  were  now  gone,  but  after  a 
little  practice  I  succeeded  in  lighting  a  fire  with  my  rifle 
and  some  damp  powder,  rolled  into  what  boys  call  a 
"fizzing  ball,"  and  some  moss.  On  the  third  day  my 
venison  came  to  a  close,  and  I  found  no  deer  in  this  lower 
land.  They  seemed  to  have  all  gone  to  the  mountains. 
Beaver  I  did  see  in  some  of  the  streams,  but  I  failed  to  get 
a  shot  at  them,  while  grouse  I  equally  failed  to  find.  The 
woods  were,  however,  full  of  berries,  on  which  I  feasted. 
They  were  poor  travelling  food  though,  and  before  I  arrived 
at  the  ridge  I  had  seen  I  felt  very  faint.  To  add  to  my 
discomfort,  I  found  a  lake  at  the  base  of  it.  This  I  had 
wearily  to  travel  around,  as  I  could  find  no  cedar-trees  in 
the  vicinity  suitable  for  a  raft.     I  was,  indeed,  so  weak  that 


-^ik^ 


IN    PAWN   IN   AN   INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


139 


it  was  with  difficulty  that  I  could  ford  the  rapid  river  flowing 
in  at  the  head  of  the  lake,  and  which  was  so  deep  that  it 
was  only  after  travelling  up  some  distance  that  I  could  wade 
across  up  to  the  arm-pits,  with  my  rifle  held  over  my 
shoulders.  The  day  was,  however,  bright  and  sunny ;  so  I 
halted,  wrung  out  my  clothes,  and  laid  them  in  the  sun  to 
dry,  while  I  bathed  in  the  stream,  the  icy  coldness  of  which 
seemed  to  revive  me.  Here  I  found  plenty  of  berries,  on 
which  I  dined. 

I  was  longing,  however,  for  meat,  and  thought  of  the 
fat  deer  I  had  left  for  the  wolves  to  pick.  Just  then  I 
heard  a  familiar  sound,  and  to  my  astonishment  a  great  fish- 
eagle  ciaught  my  eye,  perched  on  the  summit  of  a  blasted 
tree.  I  caught  up  my  rifle,  and  in  a  moment  he  was  lying 
at  my  feet,  vomiting  forth  bones  of  what  I  knew  to  be  sea- 
fish.  Still  I  little  thought  I  was  so  near  to  the  sea,  and 
only  looked  upon  the  eagle  as  material  for  dinner.  I  lit 
a  fire,  but  after  experimenting  on  various  pieces,  I  utterly 
failed  to  retain  on  my  stomach  a  single  mouthful  of  this 
rather  unpalatable  fowl.  My  clothes  dry,  I  set  off  on  my 
tramp,  on  the  other  side  of  the  ridge.  The  country  seemed 
to  slope,  but  a  dense  fog  to  the  westward  just  then  limited 
my  view.  My  former  jubilant  spirits  were  abating  rapidly, 
for  I  expected  before  this  time  to  have  seen  the  sea,  and 
my  poor  vegetarian  diet  was  not  calculated  to  revive  them. 
Stolidly  I  plodded  along  among  the  bushes,  and  over  a 
dismal  burnt  track,  along  which  a  forest  fire  seemed  to  have 
spread  some  years  before,  the  black  stumps  standing  out 
weird-like  and  dismal  to  the  traveller.  The  forest,  however 
gloomy,  is  yet  always  charming,  as  all  Nature  is,  but  these 
blasted  trees  looked  like  something  unearthly,  and  had  a 
most  depressing  effect  in  my  present  condition.    Tired,  I 


%-  - 


140 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


sat  down  to  rest  among  the  fir  scrub,  and  oppressed  by  the 
heat  of  the  sun  and  my  weary  travel,  I  fell  asleep.  When 
I  awoke  the  sun  was  setting.  Conscious  of  having  accom- 
phshed  but  a  poor  day's  work,  I  started  up,  and  again 
trudged  off,  determined  to  be  a  few  hours  nearer  the  coast 
before  I  slept.  I  had  not  gone  far  before  I  noticed  that  I 
was  on  a  sort  of  trail,  or  beaten  path.  This,  for  the  sake  of 
the  better  travelling  it  afforded,  I  took,  but  without  thinking 
more  of  it  than  that  it  was  a  deer  or  elk  track.  Suddenly, 
however,  I  stood  as  transfixed  as  ever  was  Robinson  Crusoe 
when  he  saw  the  footprint  on  the  seashore  of  his  island,  at 
the  distinct  impression  of  a  bare  human  foot  in  the  damp 
soil !  Could  I  have  accidentally  gone  over  m"  own  foot- 
steps? No  i  I  was  ragged  and  torn,  but  I  had  ^till  a  good 
pair  of  boots  on  my  feet,  and  these  were  bare  footprints; 
i<ji  as  )  looked  around  I  found  them  quite  abundant.  I 
listened  again  !  What  was  it  I  heard  ?  Surely  it  could,  not 
be  the  echo  of  children's  shouts,  and  the  sullen,  dead  thud  of 
the  breakers  on  the  shore !  I  instantly  took  to  my  heels, 
so  impatient  was  I,  and  in  a  few  minutes  I  was  out  of  the 
bushes  and  on  a  little  rising  ground.  There,  almost  at  my 
feet,  lay  stretched  the  broad  Pacific,  and  not  two  hundred 
yards  off  ::  httl:  Indian  village,  smoking  in  a  bay  !  At  the 
first  sight  of  what  I  had  so  long  wearied  for,  T  was  almost 
downhearted,  and  with  the  revulsion  of  feeling  which  fol- 
lowed, would  have  gladly  gone  back  again  into  the  woods 
until  I  could  collect  myself. 

I  had  lived  so  long  alone  that  I  hesitated  to  come  among 
my  fellow-men,  savage  though  they  were.    With  all  the 
misery  and  toil  I  had  endured  in  the  woods,  1  still  clung  to  , 
them  as  to  an  old  friend  to  whose  faults  I  ?iad  become 
accustomed,  and  htaitated  to  make  a  change  which,  while  it 


T 


I     \ 


MY   FIRST  SIGHT   OF  THE  VILLAGE. 


MnmMimi 


IN   PAWN   IN   AN   INDIAN  VILLAGE. 


143 


might  be  better,  might  still  be  worse.  I  was  backward  to 
face  the  unknown  and  leave  the  known,  much  as  I  had 
wearied  to  get  quit  of  it.  I  believe  that,  swayed  by  these 
feelings,  I  would  have  gone  back,  for  that  day  at  least,  out  of 
sight  of  the  Indians,  had  not  some  children  who  were  gather- 
ing berries  at  that  moment  seen  me.  I  would  have  pre- 
ferred to  have  entered  the  village  without  their  seeing  in  what 
direction  I  had  come ;  but  there  was  nothing  for  it  now ;  so 
with  a  bold  front  I  marched  off  to  the  village.  There  was 
nobody  about  when  I  arrived,  so  I  walked  into  the  main 
lodge,  out  of  which  I  saw  smoke  issuing.  An  old  woman 
was  boiling  halibut  over  a  fire  in  the  middle  of  the  floor — or 
rather  throwing  hot  stones  into  a  wooden  box  filled  with 
water  and  so  boiling  it ;  and  the  rest  of  the  inmates,  a  few 
old  men  and  women,  were  sleeping  on  the  benches  which 
served  for  seats  and  beds.  I  had  almost  walked  to  the  far 
end  of  the  lodge  before  I  was  noticed.  When  the  old  woman 
looked  round,  I  gave  her  a  cheerfiil  "Clawhowya?"  (How 
do  you  do?)  in  the  Chinook  language,  or  rather  trading 
jargon,  and  was  replied  to  in  the  same.  She  now  began 
talking  loudly  to  the  other  inmates,  wh  speedily  aroused 
themselves  and  stared  at  me,  finally  givmo^  an  amazed 
"Clawhowya?"  The  children  soon  gathered  ii\,  and  the 
inmates  from  the  other  lodges,  and  all  began  whispering  and 
chattering  about  me.  An  old  man  motioned  me  to  a  bench, 
which  he  spread  with  a  clean  bark  mat  for  my  accommodation. 
Some  halibut  and  potatoes — patches  of  which  I  had  seen 
growing  outside  the  village — were  placed  before  me,  with 
some  teazed-out  cedar  bark  for  me  to  wipe  my  hands  on 
after  I  had  drunk  out  of  a  vessel  made  of  the  same  uni- 
versally useful  bark.  After  I  had  finished,  the  questioning 
began.     I  had  my  story,  of  course,  ready  enough.     I  was 


144 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


m 


one  of  a  party  of  white  men — *'  plenty  white  men,"  with  lots 
of  tJ^fas  (property  consisting  of  various  odds  and  ends),  and 
muskets — who  were  crossing  the  country  from  seya/i  (far 
away),  on  a  mowitch  (deer)  hunting  journey,  and  I  had  come 
on  in  advance  to  wait  until  a  trader  arrived  to  take  us  to 
Victoria.  By  good  luck  I  named  a  particular  trader  whom 
they  told  me  was  daily  expected.  Could  I  have  a  canoe 
and  some  good  paddlers  to  take  ine  south  to  meet  the 
trader,  and  I  should  pay  them  well  when  I  did  ?  At  present, 
not  to  burden  myself,  I  had  nothing  with  me,  but  would  pay 
them  by  papers  until  he  arrived.  Then  followed  a  loud 
consultation  in  which  everybody  joined.  The  result  was 
communicated  to  me  by  the  only  young  man  I  saw,  viz. : — 
That  it  was  klosh  (good)  what  I  said ;  that  I  would  get 
muckamuck  (food)  if  I  gave  a  paper  or  order  on  the  trader 
for  it  each  day ;  and  in  the  meantime  they  were  all  my 
tillicums  (friends).  The  translator  of  this  verdict  was  about 
as  ill-looking  a  rascal  as  I  ever  remember  to  have  seen 
in  my  life.  His  only  dress  was  a  shirt  made  out  of  a  flour- 
sack,  with  "  Best  Golden  Gate  Flour"  branded  on  the 
breast  of  it,  and  a  scarlet  blanket.  His  long  matted  locks 
were  fastened  up  behind  in  a  knot  with  a  wisp  of  cedar 
bark,  while  his  face  and  his  low,  artificially  flattened  brow 
was  smeared  with  blood  and  grease — a  common  summer 
practice  among  these  people  (to  keep  off"  the  mosquitcjes 
they  told  me).  Kis  appearance  w^as  not  very  diflerent  from 
that  of  his  neighbours,  except  in  the  malicious  cast  of  his 
countenance.  So  like  was  he  to  a  figure  in  one  of  the 
illustrated  editions  of  the  "  Pilgrim's  Progress,"  that  in  my 
own  mind  I  dubbed  him  "  Apollyon,"  and  by  this  name  he 
figures  in  my  note-book.  Instinctively  I  disliked  the  fellow 
and  apprehended  trouble  from  him.     He  seemed  to  be  a 


I 


IN    PAWN    IN   AN    INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


H5 


leading  man  among  them,  but  yet  was  not  liked ;  that  was 
apparent.  Even  the  children  made  faces  at  him  behind  his 
back,  and  the  women  showed  undisguised  hatred  of  him. 
By  evening,  most  of  the  younger  women  and  older  children 
came  home  laden  with  berries,  and  set  to  work  cooking  and 
eating  halibut.  The  old  men  were,  many  of  them,  tine- 
looking  old  savages,  firm  and  resolute,  though  with  a  some- 
thing behind  those  eyes  of  theirs  that  could  only  be  expressed 
by  the  phrase  "  a  character  in  ambush ;"  while  some  of  the 
young  women,  if  they  could  only  have  been  induced  to  be 
more  liberal  in  the  matter  of  soap  and  water,  would  have 
been  far  from  ill-looking.  They  had  at  worst  a  pleasing, 
good-humoured  expression  of  countenance,  at  the  sight  of 
which  you  felt  that  there  was  something  more  in  them 
than  the  mere  selfishness  and  cruelty  of  which  the  counte- 
nances of  the  men  struck  you  as  so  expressive. 

That  evening  I  was  occupied  chiefly  in  answering  the 
endless  questions  they  all  put  to  me,  Apollyon  on  this,  as 
on  other  occasions,  taking  the  lead,  though  always  in  a 
sly,  cunning  manner,  which  was  infinitely  more  disgusting 
than  the  outspoken  selfishness  and  greed  of  the  old  men.  I 
felt  surprised  at  so  few  people  being  present — for  the  village 
looked  a  large  one — and  at  all  the  canoes  being  drawn  in- 
side a  kind  of  stockade.  I  soon,  however,  learned  the 
reason.  The  village  on  which  I  had  so  curiously  struck 
belonged  to  the  Muchlaht  tribe,  and  was  on  the  Tlupana 
arm  of  Nootka  Sound.  Another  more  southern  tribe,  the 
Hashquahts,  had  for  some  time  been  at  war  with  the  Much- 
lahts,  and  nearly  all  the  able-bodied  men  of  the  village  were 
off  on  a  war  expedition  against  them  ;  until  they  returned  I 
could  get  no  canoe.  I  lelt  rather  annoyed  at  the  news,  but 
there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  trust  to  the  arrival  of  the 


;  I 


146 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


111 


li: 


PI 


trader,  or  that  of  one  of  my  companions.  That  night  I 
slept  in  an  empty  lodge,  ApoUyon  supplying  me  with  a 
blanket  and  a  box  of  matches  on  my  giving  him  a  "  paper" 
for  them  for  about  twice  their  value.  In  a  day  or  two  I  had 
become  somewhat  at  home  in  the  village,  and  began  to 
know  its  inhabitants  by  face,  and  to  be  on  familiar 
daw/io7C'j'a-mg  terms  with  them.  At  first  I  used  to  go 
out  for  miles  around,  hoping  to  shoot  a  deer,  but  I  soon 
found  that  at  this  season  of  the  year  it  was  a  hopeless  task. 
All  the  deer  had  taken  to  the  hills,  or  were  frightened  out  of 
range  by  the  Indians.  Still  I  sometimes  went  so  far  as  the 
ridge,  and  would  there  light  large  smoky  fires  to  attract  the 
attention  of  my  companions,  and  at  night  would  return  to 
the  village. 

Day  after  day  passed  in  this  way.  The  evenings  were 
long,  and  it  was  not  until  dark  that  I  ever  cared  to  turn 
into  my  lodge  to  go  to  sleep.  But  sometimes  on  wet  nights 
I  was  obliged  to  keep  within  doors,  and  then  for  the  sake 
of  company  I  would  go  into  one  of  the  large  lodges  where 
the  Indians  lived.  Of  course  I  understood  little  or  none  of 
their  talk  among  each  other,  nor  did  I  seem  to  have  lost 
much.  It  seemed  principally  to  consist  of  boasting  of 
fishing  or  hunting  feats  (though  I  saw  none  of  them  who 
were  anything  but  miserable  shots),  or  of  talking  of  the  war 
and  the  probable  amount  of  plunder.  Sometimes  I  could 
see  that  it  consisted  in  teasing  the  women,  and  in  expressions 
and  acts  which,  to  our  notions,  savoured  of  gross  indecency. 
At  other  times  I  could  see  that  it  was  directed  to  me,  and 
to  my  rifle,  of  which  they  seemed  to  have  a  very  high 
opinion.  Of  this  weapon,  I  may  mention,  I  never  lost  sight. 
It  was  my  best  friend,  and  I  was  afraid  to  have  it  out  of  my 
sight.     My  revolver  they  did  not  understand  so  clearly,  but 


]N    PAWN,  IN    AN    INDIAN    VILLAGE. 


147 


at  the  same  time  had  an  immense  idea  of  its  importance. 
Our  food  was  chiefly  hahbut,  quantities  of  which  they  were 


^■4 


w 


b  i' 


■' '»»..,a;.  .- 


IV^ 


HAoHC^UAHT'  INDIANS. 


slicing  and  drying,  giving  the  filthy  little  hamlet  (if  it  can  be 
so  called)  a  most  abominably  fishy  odour. 

K  2 


148 


A^ONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


m 


The  old  men  seemed  afraid  to  venture  out  far  to  fish, 
but  sat  smoking  and  talking  on  the  cliff  in  front  of  the 
village.  The  women  used  to  go  berry-gathering  in  the 
morning,  returning  at  night;  while  some  of  the  younger 
ones  would  go  to  a  considerable  distance  inland,  remaining 
in  rough  brush  camps  for  two  or  three  days  at  a  time.  I 
would  generally  leave  early  in  the  morning,  and  either 
wander  along  the  shore  or  go  inland  a  little  way — anything 
to  be  by  myself  and  out  of  the  fishy  village. 

There  was  one  headland,  about  a  couple  of  miles  south 
of  the  village,  where  I  used  frequently  to  go.  Here  I  could 
see  the  line  ot  coast  for  a  long  distance,  and  eagerly  I 
looked  out  for  the  trader's  schooner,  but  invariably  without 
success.  I  had  long  ago  given  up  all  hopes  of  my  com- 
panions arriving,  and  only  kept  up  a  semblance  of  the  myth 
for  the  sake  of  having  an  additional  hold  on  the  selfish, 
suspicious  lot  among  whom  I  was  living. 

All  this  time  Apollyon  was  not  idle.  Whatever  else  he 
failed  in,  he  never  omitted  before  I  went  to  sleep  to 
demand  the  paper  for  my  board  and  lodgings.  It  would 
have  been  really  amusing  (had  I  not  had  to  pay  for  it)  to 
see  the  ingenuity  of  the  rascal  in  running  up  a  bill.  He 
absolutely  charged  for  my  share  of  the  fire,  for  the  use  of 
the  lodge,  for  the  water  I  dmnk,  and  for  the  potatoes  and 
halibut  at  a  rate  which  would  have  been  satisfactory  to  the 
proprietor  of  the  chief  hotel  in  Victoria.  To  have  disputed 
one  of  them  would  only  have  been  to  incur  his  suspicions. 
Accordingly  I  paid  them  with  papers  or  orders  on  the 
traders,  all  of  whom  I  knew  would  settle  them,  getting  paid 
afterwards  by  me,  for  to  nearly  all  of  them  I  was  personally 
well  known,  and  forgery  was  out  of  the  question.  It  has 
always  been  to  me  a  puzzle,  the  confidence   which  these 


IN   PAWN    IN   AN    INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


149 


4- 


otherwise  suspicious  rascals  put  in  these  "  papers,"  seeming 
to  be  perfectly  unaware  that  they  may  be  made  valueless, 
and  being,  moreover,  unable  to  read  them.  At  all  events 
he  took  them  with  the  readiness  with  which  the  Bank  of 
England  would  accept  the  paper  of  M.  de  Rothschild. 
This  went  on  for  about  a  week  or  eight  days.  About  that 
time  I  noticed  a  change  in  their  behaviour  to  me,  which 
dated  from  an  incident  which  I  will  relate- 
Wherever  I  went,  if  the  journey  was  not  too  laborious, 
I  had  generally,  sooner  or  later,  the  company  of  Apollyon, 
and,  unwelcome  though  it  was,  I  had  to  tolerate  it.  Many 
is  the  time  I  could  have  knocked  the  fellow  down  with 
great  satisfaction  to  my  own  outraged  dignity,  if  it  had  not 
been  that  I  was  unwilling  just  then  to  quarrel  with  him,  as  I 
daily  expected  the  return  oi  the  war  party,  from  whom  I 
hoped  to  get  a  crew  to  go  south,  either  to  the  trader,  who 
was  at  some  of  the  other  villages,  or,  better  still,  to  the 
Albemi  Sawmills. 

On  one  of  these  unwelcome  visits  I  showed  him  my 
broken  compass,  and  expressed  great  regret  that  it  was 
now  useless,  as  by  it,  I  told  him,  I  could  go  almost  any- 
where. Was  it  worth  much  chickamen  ?  (money)  he  asked. 
I  said  yes,  that  some  were  worth  much,  and  others  worth 
not  so  mur^^  •  but  that  I  would  give  a  good  deal  for  a 
good  one.  c  then  ran  off  to  his  lodge,  and  came  back 
to  where  I  was  sitting  on  the  beach  with  something 
under  his  blanket.  It  was  a  small  ship's  compass  for 
hanging  in  the  cabin.  I  examined  it  with  interest,  and 
was  about  to  ask  him  where  he  got  it,  when  I  noticed 
something  which  made  me  jump  as  if  I  had  been  shot ! 
Apollyon  noticed  it,  I  could  see,  and  his  wicked  little  eyes 
glared  fire.    Without  another  word,  he  seized  the  compass 


waBiocRB^wwHrew 


i;o 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


m 


and  replaced  it  in  his  lodge.  When  he  came  back  I  could 
not  resist  asking  him  where  he  got  it ;  but  he  only  answered 
in  an  evasive  manner,  and  moved  away,  contrary  to  his 
usual  custom,  Avhich  was  to  accompany  me,  either  for  his 
own  convenience  or  for  the  sake  of  watching  me.  IPVia^  I 
had  seen  on  the  card  of  the  compass  was  my  oum  name  written 
in  my  oivn  handivriiing  !  And  well  might  I  be  startled,  for 
accidentally  I  had  stepped  into  "  the  room  where  the  skeleton 
was  kept;"  and  in  one  minute  the  savages  among  whom  I 
was  living,  and  to  whom  I  had  entrusted  my  life,  were 
changed  from  being  merely  a  dirty,  treacherous  lot  of 
warriors  and  fishers  into  a  nest  of  pirates  and  murderers 
with  the  blood  of  my  friends  on  their  heads  !  That  this  was 
so  I  had  little  doubt. 

Scarcely  a  year  previously  I  had  made  a  voyage  in  a 
little  trading  sloop  along  a  great  portion  of  this  coast, 
visiting  the  Indian  villages  on  the  way,  my  companions 
buying  the  furs  and  other  merchandise  which  the  Indians 
had  to  dispose  of,  while  I  rambled  ashore.  It  was  a  pleasant 
trip,  and  one  which  to  this  day  I  remember  with  feelings  of 
novelty  and  pleasure  such  as  linger  in  my  memory  regarding 
few  other  such  expeditions.  When  I  parted  from  my 
companions  (who  were  gay  young  Englishmen  of  quite  a 
different  class  from  the  ordinary  professional  Indian  trader, 
and  who  had  made  this  trip  more  from  a  love  of  adventure 
than  from  a  desire  for  gain),  at  their  request  I  took  the  cover 
off  the  compass  and  wrote  my  name  on  the  card,  so  that 
whenever  they  looked  at  it  they  would  have  a  souvenir  of 
their  former  compagnon  de  voyage.  About  seven  months 
before  the  incidents  occurred  to  which  this  narrative  refers, 
their  vessel  was  lost  sight  of,  nor  could  the  slightest  trace 
of  her  hapless  crew  be  found.     It  was  currently  believed  in 


4 


i-. 


J 


HASHQUAHT. 


T 


'•7* 


T 


IN    PAWN    IN   AN    INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


'53 


I 


'-T 


the  colony  that  she  had  not  been  wrecked,  but  had  been 
taken  by  the  Indians,  the  crew  murdered,  and  the  sloop 
pillaged  and  then  burnt.  Still,  though  inquiries  had  been 
instituted,  no  evidence  could  be  found  to  prove  or  disprove 
this  very  current  belief,  and  amid  tlie  immediate  stir  of  other 
events,  the  sad  fate  of  the  unfortunate  Za//a  Rookh  died  out 
of  recollection,  except  with  those  who,  like  myself,  were 
more  immediately  interested  in  the  subject. 

While  rambling  about  the  village  for  some  days  past  1 
had  seen  various  implements,  which  I  knew  had  belonged 
to  some  vessel ;  but  they  did  not  strike  me  as  being  worthy 
of  much  remark,  being  apparently  obtained  from  some  wreck 
or  other.  All,  however,  now  came  forcibly  to  my  mind. 
They  were  doubtless  only  further  remains,  with  the  com- 
pass, of  the  sloop  in  which  I  had  made  my  early  voyage ; 
and  I  shuddered  to  think  that,  perhaps,  before  long  I 
should  share  the  fate  of  my  unfortunate  companions, 
\vhc:e  murdered  bodies  were  no  doubt  buried  somewhere 
amid  the  rank  nettles  and  bush  close  by !  I  was  so 
confounded  and  horror-struck  at  the  discovery  I  had 
made  that  I  sat  where  I  was,  motionless  and  wrapped  in 
thought,  for  hours.  When  I  arose  to  return  to  the  village 
it  was  getting  dusk.  It  was  not,  however,  so  dark  but  I 
could  perceive  that  during  the  last  few  hours  all  the 
articles  ol  wreck  which  I  had  formerly  noticed  had  been 
carefully  put  out  of  sight.  From  that  time  I  also  noticed  a 
marked  difierence  in  the  way  I  was  treated.  The  old  men 
with  whom  I  was  on  teniis  of  friendship  were  now  reserved 
in  their  manner  to  me,  and  frequently  when  I  addressed 
them  they  would  wrap  their  blankets  about  them  and  go 
off,  muttering  something  in  their  own  language  which  I 
could  not  understand;  and  I  often  saw  them   talking  in 


*T"- 


154 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


little  groups,  and  nodding  in  my  direction.  Even  the 
women,  by  whom  I  was  always  treated  with  the  greatest 
civility  and  even  kindness,  began  to  look  askance  at  me.  I 
soon  saw  that  some  person  had  been  working  against  me ; 
who  it  was  I  had  littl'j  doubt.  Apollyon,  who  had  formerly 
been  abjccdy  civil  to  me — even  cringing — now  began  to 
cliange  his  tone.  Though  he  never  neglected  to  ask  every 
evening  for  the  "  paper  "  of  my  day's  expenses,  yet,  instead 
of  hinting  that  it  was  due,  he  would  almost  insolently 
ask  it ;  and  he  would  even  go  so  far  as  to  wave  me  to  go 
to  him,  instead  of  coming  to  me.  This  I  was  determined 
to  put  a  stop  to  as  soon  as  possible,  at  whatever  risk. 
I  knew  well  enough  that  Apollyon  was  not  respected  in 
the  village,  only  feared,  and  that  if  once  he  was  thoroughly 
put  down,  nobody  would  stand  much  up  for  him.  It  was 
not  long  before  I  had  an  opportunity. 

It  was,  I  think,  about  the  close  of  the  third  day  after  I 
had  aroused  their  suspicions  in  reference  to  the  compass, 
that  I  was  sitting  on  a  rock  at  the  end  of  the  village 
peering  wistfully  out  towards  the  sea.  Gradually  most  of 
the  old  men  of  the  village  approached  to  where  I  was,  and 
sat  down  beside  me,  their  noses  inside  their  blankets,  Indian 
fashion.  Apollyon  also  came,  and  after  muttering  something 
to  the  old  men,  with  an  air  of  assumed  c  ntempt,  he  began 
talking  to  me,  while  I  could  see  the  old  m^n  were  listening 
with  some  anxiety,  one  translating  to  another,  and  making 
hurried  comments  under  their  breath.  Were  my  papers 
good  ?  he  asked  me.  When  did  I  think  my  iilUcums 
(friends)  would  come  etiite  illihee  (across  the  country)  ? 
Was  I  a  tyhee  (chief)  among  the  white  people  ?  and  so 
on.  All  his  questions  I  answered  in  a  calm  tone  of  voice, 
marking,  however,  the  growing  impudence  of  the  scoundrel ; 


I 


; 


.••:-f> 


% 


:  ^^ 


'.r'"^ 


-kI 


,i 


k- 


ONE  OF   MY  NEW   FRIENDS. 


.  •  •»•< 


n 


(I 


xA- 


^ 


f 


0 


'I 


IN    PAWN    IN    AN    INDIAN    VILLAGE. 


^57 


and  nt  the  same  time  that  he  had  a  two-edged  knife  con- 
cealed in  the  hair  behind  his  ear.  This  is  a  favourite  place 
with  these  Inal.ns,  and  only  used  when  they  wish  to  con- 
ceal the  fact  of  their  having  such  a  weapon  about  them. 
Accordingly  I  kept  my  eye  on  it.  Little  by  little  he  grew 
more  insulting  and  I  more  contemptuous  of  him,  until 
finally  he  told  me  he  didn't  believe  that  I  was  a  chief  at  all, 
or  that  my  papers  were  worth  anything  !  Of  course  I  could 
have  shot  him  on  the  spot,  but  that  I  did  not  wish  to  do, 
as  it  would  have  involved  me  in  trouble,  and  possibly  have 
cost  me  my  life.  So  I  restrained  myself  until  he  pushed  up 
against  me.  The  moment  was  now  come.  Quick  as  light- 
ning, before  he  could  act,  I  seized  him  by  the  nape  of  the 
neck  with  my  right  hand,  at  the  same  time  catching  hold 
of  the  knife  and  throwing  it  from  me  with  the  other.  I 
then  with  my  heavily-booted  foot  comfortably  kicked  him 
in  front  of  the  lodges.  These  Indians  are  strong  of  grip, 
and  once  let  them  get  hold  of  you,  nothing  can  make  them 
let  go.  This  I  avoided,  and  from  the  place  where  I  had 
seized  him  I  could  move  him  as  I  would.  My  blood  was 
fairly  up,  and  a  grim  sarcastic  humour  seized  me  as  I  kicked 
him  backwards  and  forwards  for  two  or  three  minutes — 
calling  on  the  women,  who  were  returning  from  berry- 
gathering,  and  the  old  men,  whom  I  could  see  weie  quietly 
rejoicing  over  it,  that  here  was  the  mar\  who  did  not  think 
a  white  chief's  papers  good,  and  then  delivering  him  a  kick 
and  giving  his  neck  a  squeeze  which  made  him  howl 
with  pain.  I  fancy  such  an  exhibition  had  never  before 
met  the  astonished  gaze  of  the  Muchlahts.  By  this  time 
I  had  kicked  him  back  to  where  I  had  left  my  rifle.  This 
I  took  hold  of  and  let  him  go.  He  did  not  wait  to 
expostulate,  but  bolted  with  a  speed  of  which  I  had  not 


.<*«..* 


158 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


thought  him  capable.  I  then  walked  back  to  where  the 
crowd  were  talking  together.  I  could  see  that  my  spirited 
action  had  materially  raised  me  in  their  eyes ;  though  they 
were  so  utterly  astonished  at  this  British  method  of  going 
to  work  to  punish  an  enemy  that  they  did  not  know  well 
what  to  make  of  it.  They  seemed  perfectly  amazed.  If  I 
had  shot  him,  they  would  have  understood  that ;  but  only 
subjecting  him  to  the  fearful  indignity  I  had  was  beyond 
the  range  of  their  philosophy.  They,  however,  in  an  almost 
awe-struck  manner,  invited  me  to  partake  of  some  berries ; 
and  one  of  the  women  whispered  to  me  not  to  sleep  in  my 
own  lodge  that  night.  Though  I  knew  that  the  safest  place 
in  an  Indian  village,  if  you  expect  trouble,  is  the  main 
lodge,  on  account  of  the  Indians  not  liking  to  fight  where 
ihere  are  women  and  children,  some  of  whom  might  get 
struck,  and,  besides,  one's  friends  will  be  more  apt  to  give 
the  alarm  than  if  you  were  alone,  still  it  would  not  do  thus 
to  confess  my  fear,  and  I  affected  to  laugh  it  off,  and,  as 
usual,  went  to  the  vacant  lodge  appropriated  to  me— even 
earlier  than  usual.  I  determined,  however,  not  to  sleep, 
for  though  I  had  seen  nothing  of  Apollyon,  I  knew  he 
might  be  close  at  hand  for  all  that  I  knew,  and  no  doubt 
was  meditating  mischief  to  me. 

I  must  have  been  about  tv/o  hours  lying  wrapped  in  my 
blanket,  when  I  was  alarmed  by  a  trampling  among  the 
bushes  behind  the  lodge,  but  I  soon  lay  down  again,  con- 
vinced that  it  was  only  some  of  the  Indians  moving  about. 
In  this  belief  I  was  confirmed,  for  just  then  a  boy  ran  in 
and  told  me  that  he  was  certain  the  trading  schooner  was 
in  sight.  At  this  glad  news  I  started  and  ran  out  to  the 
cliff.  But  I  was  disappointed  ;  the  object  which  the  boy 
had  seen  looming  in  the  darkness  was  shown  by  the  moon, 


IN    PAWN    IN    AN    INDIAN    VILLAGE. 


159 


which  was  then  rising,  to  be  nothing  but  a  low  fleecy  cloud, 
and  I  again  returned  to  my  *.'  bed,'^  downhearted  with  hope 
deferred.  Just  as  I  was  approaching  it  a  blanketed  figure 
ran  round  the  end  of  the  house  and  disappeared  suddenly 
in  the  woods.  Almost  simultaneously  I  recollected  that  I 
had  left  my  rifle  in  the  lodge.  Rushing  in,  my  worst  tears 
were  verified — the  rifle  was  gone  !  I  stood  transfixed.  Mis- 
fortunes never  come  singly.  Here,  in  addition  to  having  had 
an  open  rupture  with  the  worst  scoundrel  in  the  village,  I 
had  lost  my  best  means  of  defence,  and  the  very  instrument 
on  which  I  was  depending  in  a  plan  of  escape  which  was 
now  revolving  in  my  mind.  I  could  have  sworn  that  the 
figure  I  saw  at  the  lodge  was  Apollyon,  but  the  long  blanket 
gives  in  the  darkness  such  a  general  resemblance  to  all  these 
coast  Indians,  that  I  could  not  be  sure  of  identifying  the 
weare*-,  even  if  that  had  served  me  much.  When  I  came  into 
the  main  lodge,  one  of  the  first  whom  I  saw  was  Apollyon, 
sitting  busily  taking  his  supper.  He  was  apparently  very 
elated  at  something,  and  quite  different  from  what  a  kicked 
man  would  appear  on  the  day  of  his  disgrace.  To  me  he 
was  perfectly  civil,  but  in  his  eyes  shone  malice  and  re- 
venge. Though  no  longer  insolent,  there  was  an  elation  in 
his  manner  which  made  me  uneasy,  and  confirmed  me  in 
niy  belief  that  it  was  he  who,  perhaps  bound  on  an  attempt 
to  murder  me,  had  stolen  my  rifle.  It  was  in  vain  that  I 
complained  to  the  people.  They  only  etsided  in  surprise. 
Nobody  was  more  astonished  apparently  than  Apollyon, 
though  his  countenance  showed  that  he  thought  himself 
suspected.  I  was  too  wearied  to  argue  the  point,  so  I 
rolled  myself  in  my  blanket,  after  he  had  gone  to  his  own 
lodge,  and  slept  among  the  rest  of  the  people  in  the  most 
crowded   compartment   I   could  find   in    the  great   house. 


i6o 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


f. 


My  confidence  had  quite  deserted  me  with  the  loss  of  my 
trusty  friend  the  rifle,  which,  during  the  last  week  or  more  I 
had  looked  upon  as  especially  my  safeguard  against  all 
enemies.  I  had  still  my  revolver,  but  somehow  I  did  not 
feel  the  same  confidence  in  it.  Next  morning  I  renewed 
my  inquiries,  but  all  to  no  avail.  House  after  house  was 
visited,  but  I  returned  bootless  and  rifleless.  Sick  at  heart, ' 
I  wandered  out  of  the  village,  along  the  path  by  which  I  had 
approached  it,  heartily  vexed  that  ever  my  feet  had  been 
directed  there,  having  now  lost  all  hope  of  my  companions 
arriving.  If  they  had  left,  they  must  have  reached  the 
coast  elsewhere,  but  the  probabilities  were  that  they  had 
given  me  up  as  lost.  My  only  hope  was  now  in  the  trader. 
If  I  had  had  my  rifle,  I  might  have  escaped  south  along  the 
coast,  or  bribed  the  Indians  with  it,  when  they  returned 
from  the  war-party,  to  take  me  south  in  one  of  their  canoes. 
But  this  hope  was  gone,  and  poor  as  I  had  been,  I  was  now 
poorer  than  ever,  for  my  most  valuable  possession  was  gone. 
I  had  walked  and  walked  on  until  I  was  out  of  sight  of  the 
village,  and  had  reached  the  little  river  flowing  into  the 
lake,  where  I  had  bathed  just  before  I  had  sighted  the  village 
ten  days  before,  when  I  sat  down  on  the  banks  to  think  out 
my  condition  and  my  plans.  While  there  were  many  things 
in  that  village  which  disgusted  me,  there  was  one  person 
in  whom  I  was  rather  interested,  and  rega^'ding  whom  my 
curiosity  for  some  time  past  had  been  excited.  She  was  a 
girl,  perhaps  thirteen  or  fourteen  years  of  age,  so  fair  that 
there  could  be  no  doubt  that  she  was  a  half-breed,  though 
how  she  could  have  come  here,  so  far  from  any  white  settle- 
ment, puzzled  me.  In  appearance  she  was  very  different 
from  the  other  women.  Always  clean  and  tidy,  her 
personal  appearance  was  somewhat  striking,  independently 


•/ 


-■•■-irf 


.f 


/ 


k 


i'i 


1  i! 


1 1  ■ 


HI  I 


LOUISA,   THE   HAI-F-CASTE. 


I> 


i 


i 


IN    PAWN    IN    AN    INDIAN    VILLAGE. 


163 


of  her  handsome  face  and  figure.  She,  of  course,  went 
about  her  work  just  Hke  the  other  Indian  women,  and 
for  some  time  past  I  had  seen  Httle  of  her,  as  she  was  off 
berry-gathering.  I  had  several  times  spoken  to  her,  for  I 
was  curious  to  learn  her  history,  but  it  was  always  in  the 
village  that  I  met  her,  and  she  was  frightened  lest  we  should 
be  observed,  for  after  glancing  hurriedly  about,  she  would 
run  away.  I  asked  Apollyon  several  times  about  her,  but 
he  only  evaded  my  questions,  though  neither  he  nor  others 
ever  affected  to  deny  that  she  was  a  half-caste.  Why  this 
was  I  could  not  imagine,  unless  indeed  Apollyon  was 
troubled  with  jealousy,  for  he  was  a  bachelor. 

Thinking  on  such  subjects,  I  was  startled  by  being 
tapped  on  the  shoulder,  and  turning  round  I  was  astonished 
to  find  the  half-breed  girl  standing  behind  me.  She  had 
(as  I  afterwards  found)  followed  me  from  the  village.  I 
was  just  then  so  disgusted  with  the  whole  of  the  Indian 
race,  that  I  gave  her  an  angry  look,  and  paid  no  further 
attention  to  her.  At  this  she  came  in  front  of  me,  and 
to  my  astonishment  addressed  me  in  English.  *'  Do  you 
not  know  me  ?"  she  said ;  "  do  you  not  remember  Louisa?" 
and  she  called  my  attention  to  a  gaudy  tinsel  necklace, 
which  for  the  first  time  I  noticed  round  the  girl's  neck. 
"  Don't  you  know  this,  Mr.  B ?" 

I  looked  at  the  girl  again.  Surely  I  recognised  her 
features !  In  a  moment  the  recollection  of  who  she  was 
sprang  to  my  memory.  She  was  the  daughter  of  a  trader 
with  whom  I  had  stayed  for  some  time  nearly  two  years 
before.  Of  course  I  knew  her  well,  and  it  was  I  who  had 
given  her  this  very  necklace.  On  my  expressing  surprise 
at  seeing  her  in  such  a  place,  she  told  me  that  her  father 
had  been  dead  some  time — a  fact  I  already  knew — and 

L  2 


I     ! 


164 


WONDERFUL    ADVENTURES. 


that  her  mother,  who  belonged  to  this  tribe,  had  accord- 
ingly returned  thither  with  her  little  girl,  as  the  only  home 
she  knew.  Her  grandfather  was  the  chief  of  the  tribe,  but 
was  now  off  on  the  war  expedition.  When  she  last  saw 
me  I  was  close  shaved,  and  it  was  not  until  some  time 
after  I  had  been  in  the  village  that  she  remembered  me 
in  the  big-bearded  fellow  I  then  was,  and  then  only  by  a 
ring  of  peculiar  manufacture  I  wore  on  my  finger,  but  which, 
when  a  little  girl,  she  had  often  tried  to  get  off,  but  failed, 
as  it  was  very  tight.  She  had  told  this  to  ApoUyon,  but 
he  compelled  her  to  promise  not  to  tell  me  that  she  knew 
me,  in  case  I  should  get  any  information  from  her. 
Apollyon,  she  informed  me,  was  only  a  common  man,  but 
was  very  rich  (/.^.,  he  had  many  blankets,  the  Coast  Indians' 
standard  of  wealth),  and  had  remained  behind  when  tho 
war  party  left,  to  take  care  of  the  village.  He  was  a  cult  us 
elitee  (worthless  fellow)  she  said,  *'  with  no  heart !"  She  had 
followed  me  out  to  warn  me  that  most  likely  he  would 
attempt  to  murder  me.  She  was  certain  he  had  my  rifle, 
for  only  that  morning  she  heard  him  talking  to  one  of  the 
old  men  about  it,  but  it  was  hidden  somewhere. 

"  I  suppose  he  is  angry  with  me  because  I  know  that 
your  people  killed  the  white  men  in  the  Lalla  Rookh  ^"  I 
said  in  a  careless  tone. 

Instantly  the  girl  put  her  hand  upon  her  mouth,  Indian 
fashion,  and  appeared  inclined  to  say  no  more.  "  Blood  is" 
stronger  than  water,"  and  she  feared  for  her  grandfather ;  but 
I  calmed  her  fears,  and  after  some  trouble  learned  the  par- 
ticulars, which  I  had  already  guessed.  They  had  murdered 
the  men,  cut  their  bodies  open,  and  thrown  them  into  the 
sea.  The  half-savage  girl  told  me  the  most  minute  par- 
ticulars with  the  most  nonchalant  air,  apparently,  from  long 


T 


IN   PAWN   IN   AN    INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


165 


^v 


familiarity,  more  horrified  at  the  fear  of  a  gunboat  coming 
round  to  punish  them  than  at  the  shocking  deeds  ot  blood  she 
was  recounting.  They  had  intended  to  kill  me,  she  further 
informed  me,  but  could  not  make  up  their  minds ;  one 
party  was  for  it,  another  against  it.  One  party  thought 
that  it  might  not  be  prudent  to  kill  me,  in  case  my  com- 
panions should  arrive,  or  that  my  "  papers "  on  the  trader 
would  not  be  good  in  that  case ;  while  the  opposition  was 
decidedly  of  opinion  that  dead  men  tell  no  tales,  and  that  if 
they  wished  to  avoid  all  risk  of  my  telling  about  the  murder 
of  the  Lalla  Rookh  people,  the  best  thing  to  be  done  would 
be  to  take  off  my  head.  In  the  meantime,  with  selfishness 
and  fear  warring  against  each  other,  they  could  not  agree  on 
a  line  of  action.  However,  since  my  quarrel  with  Apollyon 
I  ran  a  fair  chance  of  being  killed  without  the  question 
coming  again  before  the  public  tribunal.  That  I  knew 
well ;  and  altogether  I  was  in  a  worse  position  than  ever  I 
had  found  myself  before.  What  I  might  have  done  under 
the  circumstances  I  do  not  know,  for  when  I  walked  back 
to  the  village  in  the  evening  I  found  all  in  an  uproar.  The 
war  party  had  returned  victorious,  with  many  heads  and 
prisoners.  Human  heads,  dripping  with  blood,  were  stuck 
on  poles  in  front  of  the  lodges,  and  the  whole  tribe  were 
busying  themselves  for  the  horrible  orgies  of  a  war  dance. 
To  make  things  worse,  they  had  found  some  whisky  in 
the  village  they  had  attacked,  and  all  were  half  drunk,  and 
of  course  exceedingly  dangerous.  Under  these  circum- 
stances, I  thought  it  more  prudent  to  keep  out  of  the  way. 
In  the  confusion  of  the  moment,  I  procured  unseen  a  piece 
of  cooked  halibut  from  my  half-breed  friend,  and  took 
myself  off  to  the  woods  with  my  blanket,  and  slept  there. 
I  had  apparently  touched  the  white  and  the  woman  % 


]66 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


I'; 


1     I 


side  of  the  girl's  heart,  for  sympathy  and  gratitude  are  not 
in  the  Indian ;  and  selfish  from  misfortune  and  example,  I 
lay  thinking  how  I  could  utilise  this  trait  in  the  girl.  It  was 
a  cold-blooded  calculation,  but  when  one's  life  is  in  the 
scale  it  is  no  time  to  stand  aghast  about  what  is  to  be  thrown 
into  the  scale  against  it — so  long  as  no  law  of  honour  is 
broken.  Should  I  persuade  her  to  attempt  to  recover  my 
rifle  ?  or  should  I  lie  concealed  in  the  woods,  engaging  her 
to  bring  me  food,  and  advise  me  of  the  arrival  of  the  trader  ? 
Should  I  take  (steal  it  was  not,  considering  what  I  had 
suffered  and  lost)  a  canoe,  and  persuade  her  to  escape 
during  the  night  with  me  to  paddle  it  ?  One  and  all  of  my 
plans  fell  through  as  impracticable,  or  too  utterly  dishonour- 
able to  stake  even  against  my  life,  and  as  evening  came 
on  I  returned  again  to  the  village,  determined  to  make  a 
final  effort  to  get  off. 

The  hideously-grinning  heads  were  still  on  the  poles,  and 
the  shuddering  captives,  with  their  closely-cropped  hair,  sat 
in  the  corner ;  but  everybody  was  sober — painfully  sober — 
after  their  last  night's  debauch.  The  old  chief  received  me 
with  a  grave  courtesy,  very  different  from  Apollyon's  sneak- 
ing manner.  As  for  ApoUyon  himself,  he  had  sunk  from 
being  a  petty  tyrant  to  a  very  humble  position  indeed,  and 
seemed  to  shun  rather  than  court  notice.  Though  the  men 
I  was  now  among  were  a  cruel  bloodthirsty  lot,  yet  witb 
them  I  felt  more  at  my  ease  than  with  the  others.  They 
had  a  manliness  about  them  which  inspired  some  confidence. 
Without  aid  from  me,  they  seemed  to  know  perfectly  well 
how  affairs  stood.  No  doubt  the  gossips  had  not  been  idle, 
and  I  could  see  they  were  swayed  by  the  same  motives  as 
had  influenced  the  others.  I  found  out  also  that  they  had 
only  attacked  a   few  outlying   camps,  and  were  daily  in 


V' 


t^ 


'i 


"^ 


.it^ 


i! 


il 


1   1 


ft   \ 


IN    THE   VILLAGE. 


i 


.^^ 


IN    PAWN    IN   AN    INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


169 


E 


expectation  of  being  attacked  by  the  whole  force  of  the 
Hashquahts  in  return.  That  afternoon  most  of  the  women 
and  children  were  dispatched  several  miles  into  the  interior, 
berry-gathering,  so  as  to  be  out  of  the  way,  and  among  them 
the  half-breed  girl,  so  that  with  her  vanished  any  hope  I  had 
entertained  of  escape  by  her  aid.  I  could  see  that  they  were 
determined  that  I  should  not  go  until  the  trader  arrived,  and 
that  if  the  village  was  attacked  they  considered  that  it  might 
be  useful  to  have  me  in  it ;  m  fact^  I  was  lying  in  pawn, 
just  as  assuredly  as  ever  Titmarsh  "lay  in  Lille,"  but  under 
much  graver  circumstances. 

That  night  I  slept  in  the  chief's  lodge,  but  I  could  see  that 
I  was  being  closely  watched.  It  was  in  vain  that  I  asked 
for  a  canoe  and  men,  offering  to  pay  at  the  highest  rate  when 
I  got  to  Alberni.  They  could  not  leave — they  were  afraid 
to  pass  near  the  Hashquaht  village;  they  would  be  sure 
to  meet  their  foes,  and  be  all  killed.  In  a  word,  there  avcs 
nothing  but  to  stay  where  I  was  until  the  trader  came. 
That  I  was  determined  not  to  do,  but  to  escape  south  to 
some  other  village,  where  I  might  be  more  successful.  An 
irresistible  longing  seized  me  tu  be  off  and  clear  of  the 
wretched  village  where  my  life  had  been  one  of  such 
anxiety  ;  and  the  very  thought  of  the  possibility  of  it  filled 
me  with  veritable  "pleasures  of  hope."  I  felt  in  better 
spirits  than  for  days  past ;  I  even  showed  exhilaration, 
which,  luckily  for  me,  put  them  somewhat  off  their  guard. 
On  the  second  nighl  in  the  chiefs  house  I  could  not  sleep 
much,  the  place  was  close,  and  my  mind  was  too  busy ;  so 
at  dawn  I  shook  myself  out  of  my  blanket  and  slipped  out. 
Almost  mechanically  I  took  the  beach  south  of  the  village, 
and  wandered  along  a  few  hundred  yards,  until  in  a  sandy 
cove  I  sat  down  on  a  fallen  tree.     Nobody  seemed  to  be 


in     I 


170 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


about.  Should  I  take  advantage  of  the  next  few  hours, 
and  put  some  miles  between  me  and  the  village,  trusting  to 
berries,  shellfish,  and  my  revolver  for  food  ?  If  I  met  any 
Indians,  I  could  not  be  much  worse  than  I  was.  At  worst* 
J  could  only  die ;  and  when  a  man  philosophically  thinks 
thus,  it  is  wonderful  what  courage  and  determination  he 
gets.  It  is  this  miserable  petty  fear  of  death  that  makes 
cowards  of  us  all.  In  another  moment  I  should  have  been 
off,  when  ping  !  a  bullet  whistled  past  my  ear  and  struck 
the  beach  a  few  feet  ahead  of  me.  A  glance  at  the  place 
showed  that  it  had  been  aimed  at  me.  In  a  moment  I  was 
in  the  wood.  I  knew  the  sharp,  clear  sound  of  that  shot ; 
I  had  fired  too  often  with  that  rifle  not  to  know  it.  I  had 
only  gone  a  {(t^ff  paces  in  the  direction  from  which  the 
sound  came,  before  I  saw  a  blanketed  figure  skulking  ofi 
amid  the  bushes.  In  a  few  bounds  I  was  on  him,  but 
quicker  than  me  he  plumped  down  on  the  ground,  covering 
something  with  the  ample  folds  of  his  scarlet  blanket.  It 
was  Apollyon,  and  that  he  was  attempting  to  shoot  me  with 
my  own  rifle  I  had  no  need  to  be  told.  In  another  moment 
my  hand  was  on  my  revolver,  and  had  it  not  been  that  I  was 
afraid  to  alarm  the  village,  a  bullet  would  have  been  through 
his  flattened  skull.  I  had  other  designs,  however.  "  Ikta 
mika  mamookV  (what  are  you  doing?)  I  indignantly 
asked. 

He  gave  one  of  his  demoniacal  sniggers  as  he  looked  up 
into  my  face  and  replied,  ^^Otltus /"  (nothing  in  particular!) 

"  Cultus  /"  and  I  looked  at  him,  and  he  at  me.  I  saw 
that  he  had  a  knife  under  his  blanket.  I  could  also  see 
the  butt  of  my  rifle  peeping  out.  The  sight  roused  my 
fury,  and  rushing  on  him,  I  gave  him  a  tremendous  blow 
in  the  eye  with  my  fist,  sending  him  "heels  over  head;" 


•k* 


IN   PAWN   IN   AN   INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


171 


«! 


r 


not,  however,  before  he  had  given  me  a  sHght  cut  in  the 
arm  while  aiming  at  my  heart. 

He  was  up  immediately,  but  I  had  already  seized  the 
rifle,  and  as  he  rushed  on  me,  knife  in  hand,  I  caught  him 
a  blow  with  the  butt-end  which  laid  him  senseless  among 
the  bushes.  I  gave  a  hurried  look  at  him.  His  forehead 
was  deeply  cut  and  swollen,  and  though  he  still  breathed,  I 
had  little  doubt  but  that  I  had  finished  his  earthly  career. 
In  another  minute  I  was  off,  bounding  through  the  woods  in 
a  southerly  direction,  keeping  a  short  distance  from  the  beach. 

It  was  yet  early  dawn,  and  flushed  with  the  morning's 
work,  I  ran  through  the  thick  fir  woods  with  a  speed  of  which 
I  did  not  think  myself  capable.  Stumbling  over  fallen  logs 
and  scrambling  through  bushes,  I  still  kept  on,  in  the  open 
places  running  as  hard  as  I  could,  until,  when  breathless  I 
made  a  halt,  I  must  have  been  several  miles  from  the 
Indian  village.  Though  a  moment's  consideration  would 
have  shown  me  that  I  was  perfectly  safe  from  pursuit  in 
this  direction,  I  was  so  much  afraid  of  losing  my  dear  free- 
dom, that  I  only  stopped  to  reload  from  the  powder-flask 
and  bullets  which  I  had  never  parted  with.  Again  I  fled 
southward,  at  a  distance  probably  of  more  than  a  mile  from 
the  shore,  until  in  the  course  of  the  afternoon  I  halted  by 
the  banks  of  a  little  stream  to  pick  some  salmon  berries,  for 
I  was  getting  hungry.  In  the  hurried  course  of  my  flight  I 
had  determined  to  sleep  during  the  day,  not  only  for  satiety, 
but  for  warmth,  and  travel  by  the  moonlight  nights  which 
were  now  in  all  their  beauty.  Accordingly  I  lay  down  to 
sleep  among  the  bushes,  and  wearied,  I  slept  soundly  for 
some  hours.  It  was  not  yet  dark,  but  the  moon  was  be- 
ginning to  appear  over  the  trees.  I  tarried  to  eat  a  few 
more  berries,  and  while  lingering  I  heard  a  rustling  among 


I 


i 


172 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


W 


the  bushes.  So  fearful  was  I  lest  I  should  again  be  pursued 
that  I  endeavoiired  to  hide  myself — but  too  late.  It  was 
the  half-breed  girl  who  had  startled  me.  She  had  a  basket 
of  berries  on  her  back,  and  was  apparently  returning  home 
to  some  camp  in  the  neighbourhood.  I  knew  that  in 
jjrospect  of  the  village  being  attacked,  most  of  the  younger 
women  had  been  sent  off,  as  being  too  valuable  chattels  to 
be  exposed  to  the  risk  of  capture  by  the  invader ;  so  that 
after  the  first  startle  at  her  unexpected  appearance,  I  was 
not  surprised  to<  see  her,  even  so  far  from  home.  Before  I 
had  ^me  to  speak  to  her  another  woman  pushed  through 
among  the  bushes,  also  with  a  large  basket  of  berries  on  her 
back.  Both  stood  motionless  in  an  attitude  of  astonishment, 
with  their  fingers  on  their  lips,  uncertain  in  the  fading 
twilight  whether  to  believe  me  real  or  only  a  tomanwo — (a 
ghost).  Assured  by  the  flesh-and-blood  laughter  with  which 
I  greeted  the  astonished  damsels,  they  inquired  where  I  had 
come  from.  Scotchman  fashion,  I  answered  by  asking 
another,  where  they  came  from  and  who  were  with  them. 
They  were  camped  in  a  little  brush  hut,  a  few  minutes'  walk 
{tenass  oihyout)  from  here,  they  said,  and  there  was  nobody 
with  them  except  a  few  women  and  children,  "  all  of  them," 
they  assured  me,  as  with  womanly  acuteness  they  saw  the 
half-dubious  expression  of  my  face,  "  koneway  tillicum  copa 
niika''^  (all  of  them  friends  to  you). 

I  told  them  in  return  as  much  as  I  cared  to  tell,  conceal- 
ing the  fact  of  the  little  manslaughtering  transaction  of  the 
morning  in  which  I  had  been  engaged,  though  it  was  no  use 
denying  that  I  had  escaped  from  the  village  and  was  going 
southward.     To  all  of  this  they  only  answered  ^^  Etsina  /"* 


. ' 


? 


♦  A  common  form  of  exclamation  when  astonished. 


IN    PAWN    IN   AN    INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


173 


' 


and  begged  of  me  to  come  to  their  camp  and  get  some 
muckamuck  (food)  before  going  further. 

Under  even  hungrier  circumstances  I  might  have  declined 
this,  but  the  kindly  expression  of  the  poor  girl's  face  showed 
me  that  I  had  nothing  to  fear.  But  as  I  came  near  enough 
to  their  camp  to  see  the  smoke  curling  up,  they  beckoned 
me  to  stop.  Could  it  be  that  these  two  damsels  were  afraid 
of  their  reputation  being  lost  by  escorting  a  young  man 
through  the  forest  ?  Oh  no  !  it  was  a  much  more  prosaic 
reason.  They  were  afraid  of  the  other  women  telling,  when 
they  went  back  to  the  village,  that  they  had  more  than 
the  rest  helped  me  to  escape  \  and  so  they  charged  me  to 
come  to  the  camp  some  time  after  them,  just  as  if  I 
had  stumbled  over  it  myself.  I  obeyed  them  exactly,  and 
though  again  much  astonishment  greeted  my  sudden  ap- 
pearance, by  no  one  was  it  more  shown  in  reality  than  it 
was  feigned  by  my  two  friends  of  not  many  minutes  before. 
Nothing  could  have  shown  me  Indian  guile  and  duplicity 
more  thoroughly  than  this,  and  it  in  no  way  made  me 
more  comfortable  while  they  pressed  food  on  me.  I  was 
always  afraid  of  some  treachery,  even  while  feeling  ashamed 
of  having  so  low  an  opinion  of  those  who  so  kindly  treated 
one  whom  they  well  knew  would  probably  never  repay  them. 
Out  from  under  the  eye  of  their  lords  of  creation,  these 
Indian  women  were  quite  a  ditferent  set  of  people  from  what 
they  had  hitherto  appeared  to  me.  Jocular,  kind,  and  really 
unselfish  now  that  they  saw  my  need,  they  pressed  on  me 
roasted  trout  (which  they  had  caught  with  grasshoppers  in 
a  little  lake  not  far  oft)  berries,  and  gajuass.'^  I  saw  them 
*-everaI  tunes  looking  at  my  rifle,  but  though  all  of  them 


The  bulbs  of  the  Gamassia  esctilcntea  (Lindl.),  a  blue  lily. 


174 


A^'ONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


knew  well  the  circumstances  of  my  losing  ft,  none  of  them 
ever  referred  to  it.  The  fire  was  burning  brightly,  and  my 
rifle  was  lying  over  my  knee  with  the  brass-hilted  butt 
fully  exposed  to  the  light.  I  noticed  a  glance  exchanged 
between  two  or  three  of  them,  and  finally  one  of  them 
remarked,  "Oh!  you  must  have  killed  a  deer  coming  along; 
look  at  the  blood  on  your  musket." 

I  immediately  examined  it,  and  reddened  to  find  what  I 
had  not  hitherto  noticed,  blood  and  hair  on  the  brass  butt. 
I  evaded  the  remark,  and  the  women  were  for  the  moment 
attracted  by  something  else.*  Then  the  half-breed  girl 
whispered  into  my  ear,  "  Mika  fnem-aioose  yaka  ?"  (did  you 
kill  him  ?)  I  saw  that  my  secret  was  out,  and  that  it  was  as 
well  to  tell  the  whole  story  with  an  air  of  gaiety,  and  this  I 
did.  I  found  that  I  might  have  told  it  at  first,  for  from 
the  moment  they  saw  the  rifle  again  in  my  possession,  and 
me  in  flight,  they  had  taken  it  for  granted. 

I  was  horror-stricken  to  see  how  calmly  these  women, 
who  had  been  so  kind  to  me,  heard  the  story  of  the  death 
of  one  whjm  they  had  known  from  childhood.  Actually 
they  did  not  seem  to  care  anything  about  the  matter,  unless 
it  was  that  they  looked  upon  me  with  more  respect  than 
before.  One  woman  whispered  to  another  something  about 
"  buying  his  body" — a  common  custom  among  these  people 
— but  she  was  silenced  for  her  greed.  No  feeling  of  sym- 
pathy for  the  dead  man,  or  horror  at  me  his  slayer,  seemed 
to  enter  their  souls,  hardened  by  long  familiarity  with  such 
incidents  as  these.  After  this  I  felt  uneasy  in  their  com- 
pany, for  if  they  looked  so  lightly  on  the  death  of  a  fellow- 
tribesman,  how  much  less  might  they  not  consider  the 
murder  of  me,  a  stranger,  a  white  man,  and  the  slayer  of 
one  of  their  own  people  i 


1' 


J 


IN   PAWN   IN   AN   INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


175 


The  full-risen  moon,  which  now  siied  its  light  over  the 
forest,  afforded  me  an  excuse  for  being  off.  They  would 
have  pressed  food  on  me  had  I  chosen  to  diminish  their 
not  over-large  supply ;  but  I  contented  myself  by  learning 
from  them  the  distance  to  the  Hashquaht  village,  and,  as 
near  as  they  could,  the  lay  of  the  inte/vening  coast.  It  was 
"  not  far,"  they  assured  me.  There  were,  however,  no 
villages  between,  and  the  village  I  hsu}  escaped  from  was 
the  most  southerly  one  of  the  Muchlahts. 

As  I  had  intended  to  keep  the  sea  on  my  right  hand 
as  a  guide,  I  started  off  in  its  direction,  among  the  now 
ghost-like  trees,  and  once  more  was  a  free  man ;  though 
the  forest  did  seem  silent  and  lonely  after  the  gossiping, 
chatting  group  I  had  left.  Lightly  equipped,  and  now 
more  familiar  with  the  diflliculties  of  woodland  travel,  I 
passed  quickly  along  in  a  south-west  direction.  In  my 
excited  condition  every  trifle  alarmed  me.  The  hooting  of 
an  owl  made  me  start  as  if  a  war-cry  had  rung  in  my  ears, 
and  even  the  rustling  among  the  branches  of  some  animal 
aroused  from  its  slumber  by  the  crackling  of  the  branches, 
gave  my  nerves  a  greater  shock  than  in  ordinary  circum- 
stances the  growl  of  a  bear  at  my  side  would  have  caused. 
After  I  had  travelled  an  hour  or  so  I  sat  down  to  rest,  and 
was  so  wearied  that,  quite  against  my  will,  I  dropped  asleep. 
How  long  I  slept  I  do  not  know,  but  when  I  woke  up  I 
was  so  provoked  at  having  lost  valuable  time  that  I  started 
up  at  once,  and  hurried  off  with  greater  speed  than  ever. 

Hurrying  on  at  this  pace  I  soon  reached  the  sea,  and 
cautiously  I  approached  from  the  shelter  of  the  forest  to 
survey  the  line  of  coast.  I  had  come  out  near  a  little  head- 
land, up  which  I  climbed  so  as  to  get  a  more  commanding 
view.    It  was  a  calm,  warm  summer  night,  and  as  I  reviewed 


■-=*^'tT5jrt  ■ 


176 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


the  eventful  day  that  it  had  closed,  I  congratulated  myself 
that  I  had  done  a  good  day's  work  for  myself.  Still  the 
thought  of  having  the  blood  of  a  man — even  of  my  would- 
be  murderer — on  my  head  disturbed  my  satisfaction,  and  I 
got  more  nervous  than  ever.  South  of  the  little  cove  at  my 
feet  stretched  a  long  sandy  beach,  which,  now  that  the  tide 
was  ebbing,  aftbrded  much  better  transit  than  the  forest.  1 
was  thinking  that  I  might  safely  attempt  it,  when  I  happened 
to  look  northward.  Surely  I  had  seen  that  reef  of  rock 
and  that  cliff  before  !  I  could  have  dropped  down  with  the 
shock  I  received,  when  I  realised  the  stunning  fact  that  1 
was  not  more  than  a  mile  from  the  village  I  had  left  in  the 
morning !  Either  during  the  time  I  had  slept,  or  before, 
I  had  mistaken  my  path  and  had  gone  in  the  opposite 
direction  to  the  one  I  ought  to  have  taken. 

I  was  so  alarmed  at  thus  losing  my  day's  labour,  that  I 
would  again  have  started  off  into  the  wo  Dds  to  make  good 
my  loss,  had  not,  just  at  that  moment,  a  something  struck 
my  ear  which  made  me  insensibly  sink  down  among  the 
thick  fir-scrub.  Plash  !  plash  !  There  was  no  mistaking  it. 
It  was  the  steady  dip  of  paddles  into  the  still,  glassy  water. 
So  still  was  it  that  I  could  even  hear  the  water  rippling 
against  the  bows  of  the  canoes.  Cautiously  peering  out,  I 
saw  a  sight  which  made  the  perspiration  stand  on  my  brow 
in  cold  drops.  There  they  were !  I  could  count  them — 
one,  two,  three,  five — nine  large  war-canoes,  full  of  men, 
paddling  into  the  little  bay  I  was  overlooking.  What  could 
they  be  about  ?  And  for  a  time  my  curiosity  overcame  my 
alarm.  One  after  another  they  ground  the  canoes  gently  on 
the  sandy  beach,  and  by  the  light  of  the  moon  I  could  see 
their  hideous  black  war-paint  as  they  whispered  together  on 
the  beach.     Finally,  one  man  drew  out  a  knife,  and  made  a 


..II 


IN    PAWN    IN    AN    INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


177 


plan  of  something  on  the  smooth  wet  sand  of  the  beach. 
Then,  as  he  pointed  here  and  there,  he  repeated  certain 
names,  which  made  me  prick  my  ears  ;  for,  from  the  time  I 
had  stayed  in  the  Muchlaht  village,  I  knew  these  to  be  the 
names  of  the  heads  of  families  in  each  lodge.  The  scoundrel 
seems  to  know  the  village  well.  He  is  drawing  a  rude  plan 
of  it,  and  telling  who  lives  in  this  house  and  who  in  that. 
It  is  a  plan  of  attack,  and  the  aboriginal  Von  Moltke 
is  giving  directions  to  his  men,  each  to  creep  up  under 
darkness,  and  while  the  village  is  fired,  to  secure  their 
victims.  It  is  the  Hashquaht  warriors  on  their  way  to  the 
Muchlaht  village,  to  revenge  the  slaughter  of  their  fishing 
village,  and  I  breathed  more  easily. 

The  moon  was  now  getting  down,  and  daylight  was  yet 
some  hours  distant.  They  were  waiting  for  that,  and  soon 
again  they  were  into  their  canoes,  and  creeping  cautiously 
along  the  coast  under  the  shadow  of  the  rocks  and  trees. 
1  was  inclined  to  watch  until  I  saw  the  village  in  a  flame, 
and  heard  the  yells  of  the  night  attack  ;  but  all  curiosity  had 
left  me.  I  was  fleeing  for  my  life.  The  beach  afforded  me 
excellent  travel,  and  along  it  I  ran  for  an  hour,  and  then 
rested ;  but  so  unnerved  was  I  with  the  many  startling 
events  of  the  day,  that  I  would  run  for  some  time,  and  then 
"  bolt"  into  the  woods;  then,  peeping  out  once  more  to  see 
that  no  one  was  watching  me,  would  again  run  for  half  an 
hour,  and  so  on.  I  need  not  have  troubled  myself,  for  all 
who  were  likely  to  have  any  interest  in  me  were  too  busy 
with  other  matters. 

When  the  sun  got  up  I  was  more  calm,  for  I  then  saw 
that  I  had  got  several  miles  from  the  Muchlaht  village,  and 
if  what  the  Indian  women  told  me  was  true,  I  might  reach 
the  Hash'^'.iaht  village  next  morning.     I  was  foolish  not  to 

M 


178 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


have  known  better  how  vague  were  the  siyahs  ffar)  anri 
wakesiyahs  (near)  of  the  Indians  ;  but  in  my  circumstances, 
and  with  my  hopeful  disposition,  I  was  only  too  eager  to 
snatch  at  any  crumbs  of  comfort.  Invigorated  by  the 
presence  of  daylight,  I  walked  until  about  noon,  though 
latterly  I  had  frequently  to  take  to  the  woods,  and  climb 
some  difficult  rocks  which  interrupted  my  progress.  At  last, 
when  the  heat  of  the  sun  became  somewhat  oppressive,  I 
crept  into  the  woods  again,  and  fell  asleep. 

When  it  was  about  time  to  set  off  again  on  my  travels,  I 
was  so  weary  that,  after  making  a  vain  attempt  to  find 
something  to  eat,  I  collected  a  quantity  of  moss,  and  lay 
down  among  some  bushes  to  sleep.  I  was  afraid  to  light  a 
fire,  though  the  warmth  of  it  would  have  been  grateful,  for 
the  night  was  chilly.  "What  with  this  and  what  with  hunger, 
I  was  up  betimes  in  the  morning,  and  searching  the  rocks 
for  shell-fish.  In  vain  I  searched  :  the  rocks  were  bare. 
At  last,  when  I  was  giving  up  the  search  in  despair,  to  my 
immense  joy  I  lighted  on  quite  a  patch  of  "  abelones,"  or 
ear-shells.* 

I  do  not  suppose  gourmands  will  sympathise  with  me, 
when  I  tell  them  that  I  never  remember  in  my  life  being 
more  overjoyed  at  anything.  Careless  of  Indians,  and  of 
anybody  and  everything  else,  I  kindled  a  fire  on  the  beach, 
and  commenced  cooking  my  shell-fish,  Indian  fashion. 
After  my  fire  had  burnt  for  some  time,  I  scattered  the 
embers,  and  laid  the  mollusks  all  carefully  on  the  now  hot 
stones  beneath.  I  then  ran  down  to  the  sea,  and  filling  my 
hat  full  of  water,  threw  it  on  the  heap;  instantly  covering 


*  Halifltis  nuthaensis  of  zoologists,  I  suppose ;  but  I  was  too  hungry 
to  attend  to  their  identification. 


IN    PAWN    IN    AN    INDIAN    VILLAGE. 


179 


them  with  my  coat,  the  steam  was  kept  in,  and  in  a  moment 
or  two  they  were  beautifully  cooked,  and  ready  to  eat. 
Perhaps,  in  a  less  enthusiastic  mood  I  should  have  been 
ready  to  confess  that  they  were  tough  as  leather,  and 
not  cooked  after  the  most  approved  method  of  the  rough- 
and-ready  cuisine  I  had  adopted  ;  but  this  I  know,  though 
I  had  before  eaten  dinners  at  Verrey's  and  the  Trois 
Freres,  and  since  then  at  the  Maison  Doree,  Delmonico's, 
and  many  other  places  famous  in  the  annals  of  cookery, 
that  never,  either  before  or  since,  recalling  that  savage  meal 
in  the  light  of  those  hungry  days,  do  I  remember  eating  any- 
thing half  so  good,  or  enjoying  it  a  thousandth  part  as 
well.  I  have  been  longer  without  food  than  the  six-and- 
thirty  hours  I  had  then  been,  but  by  too  long  a  fast  one's  ap- 
petite gets  weakened  ;  I  was  just  then  hungry  enough  to  eat 
with  an  appetite,  and  didn't  I  eat !  I  even  went  down  10 
see  if  I  could  find  any  more ;  but  there  was  no  such  luck 
in  store  for  me.  So,  invigorated  and  in  better  spirits,  I 
trudged  along.  It  never  rains  but  it  pours.  That  night 
I  slept  in  the  woods  again,  after  feasting  royally  on  huckle- 
berries,* and  next  mor  -ng — a  bright,  warm,  sunshiny  morn- 
ing— I  trudged  on  quite  ively.  I  knew  that  I  was  now  out 
of  all  danger  from  pursuit  by  the  Muchlahts,  and  as  for  any 
other  Indians,  I  was  tolerably  safe.  Besides,  was  I  not  in 
search  of  Indians  ?  and  something  I  must  risk.  So  I  deter- 
mined to  travel  during  the  cooler  part  of  he  day,  and  sleep 
among  the  moss  at  night. 

That  morning  I  had  not  gone  far  before  I  was  stopped 
by  a  deep  narrow  inlet  of  the  sea.  Whilst  chafing  under 
the  annoyaitce  of  the  long  detour  I  should  have,  I  sighted 


Vaccinum  avalifolium* 


M   2 


^<lu'^'^, 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


Li|2j8     |25 
■tt  Uii   12.2 


u  mm 

Z   Ml    12.0 


I 


i         ■               ■                                 -'          ■ 

1.25  III  1.4      1.6 

< 

6"     

^ 

fliotoj 
Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  MStO 

(716)S72-4S03 


V 


;V 


4 


■^ 


^ 


X 


I- 


]8o 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


li'U 


ail  Indian  mat  tent  on  the  other  side,  and  almost  simul- 
taneously a  canoe  lying  on  the  shore  along  which  I  had 
come.  It  was  a  small  canoe,  and  while  I  was  examining  it 
an  old  man  and  a  woman  came  out  of  the  woods.  They 
had  been  looking  at  their  martin-traps  and  their  salmon- 
weir  on  a  little  creek,  while  the  old  woman  was  laden  with 
the  roots  of  the  bracken,*  which  are  boiled  and  eaten  by 
these  people.  They  were  both  very  old,  and  almost  stupid. 
Stolid  and  impassionable,  they  expressed  no  surprise  at 
seeing  me,  after  the  first  hasty  start.  They  could  speak  no 
Chinook ;  but  I  had  picked  up  enough  of  their  language  to 
make  myself  understood.  They  were  Hashquahts,  they  told 
me ;  but  seemed  to  have  little  or  no  curiosity  as  to  where  I 
had  come  from.  The  old  woman,  as  they  ferried  me  across, 
sitting  on  my  haunches  in  their  wet,  leaky  canoe,  merely 
asked  if  I  had  come  wiklyt  umiahhissiyah  (far).  "  Yes,  I 
had  come  siyah^''  I  replied  ;  "  siyah  " — and  I  waved  my 
hand  in  a  vague  manner  to  the  north — "  and  was  going  to 
see  my  fi lends  at  the  Hashquahts'  great  house."  She  merely 
nodded  her  head,  and  said  nothing  more.  At  their  lodge 
the  old  couple  feasted  me  with  boiled  salmon-trout  and 
gamass,  until  I  cried  enough,  and  were  made  passing  glad 
when  I  presented  them  with  my  silk  necktie  and  a  couple 
of  charges  of  powder  and  ball.  It  was  in  vain,  however, 
that  I  could  persuade  them  to  escort  me,  in  their  canoe,  on 
my  way  a  little.  They  only  cried,  "  Wiklyt!  wiklyt!'^  (No! 
no !)  and  made  a  pantomimic  gesture  as  of  heads  cutting 
off.  As  for  the  Hashquaht  village,  they  could  only  tell  me 
it  was  siyah^  siyah  (far,  far),  and  moved  away  into  their 
lodge  to  doze  away  the  noon,  as  I  again  took  up  my  weary 
travel. 

•  Pteris  aquilina. 


-.J 


L 


IN   PAWN    IN   AN    INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


l8l 


i- 


; 


Once  more  my  luck  took  a  turn,  and  for  the  worse.  The 
coast  was  now  high  and  rocky,  and  I  had  to  go  far  back 
into  the  woods  in  order  to  get  room  to  walk.  My  stomach 
was  full,  fuller  than  it  had  been  for  some  time  past ;  but  I 
was  depressed  by  the  information  just  given  me.  I  hoped, 
however,  to  find  more  Indians  soon,  and  m  the  meantime 
stumbled  along  over  logs,  and  through  bush  and  stream 
and  swamp.  A  brown  bear  that  day  crossed  my  track  ; 
but  I  had  neither  time  nor  inclination  to  pursue  him  as  he 
ran  to  the  mountains,  which  now  dipped  down  close  to  the 
water's  edge.  I  saw  no  berries  of  any  kind,  and  that  night 
slept  very  cold  and  supperless  among  some  rocks,  after 
lighting  a  fire  with  my  pistol  and  some  powder,  for  my 
matches  were  now  all  gone. 

Next  day  I  again  made  the  shore,  a  long  sandy  beach, 
which  presented  no  hope  of  anything  edible,  so  that  I  had 
again  to  take  to  the  woods  to  seek  for  berries,  but  in  vain. 
Walking  in  the  woods  was  so  laborious  that  I  took  to  the 
shore  again,  and  travelled  along  all  night. 

Next  morning  I  was  seized  with  what  I  had  all  along 
dreaded,  a  severe  attack  of  dysentery,  caused  by  my 
irregular  diet,  and  bad  food  when  I  had  any.  How  the  next 
two  days  passed  I  scarcely  know ;  in  my  note-book  there  is 
hardly  an  entry  to  guide  me.  All  I  remember  is  dragging 
my  steps  wearily  along,  almost  caring  for  nothing,  and  all 
but  in  despair,  sometimes  sitting  to  rest  and  dozing  away 
into  i*n  uneasy  dream-disturbed  sleep  for  a  few  minutes 
or  a  few  hours,  and  then  hastily  starting  up  again  and 
making  for  the  south.  The  only  thing  1  had  not  lost  in- 
terest for  was  food ;  but  sharp  as  I  looked  out  for  berries 
I  could  find  none.  The  "  common  objects  of  the  sea- 
shore," unless  they  were  edible,  scarcely  attracted  my  atten- 


#^ 


182 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


\\ 


tion.  Even  a  dead  seal,  of  an  unknown  species,  waa 
mainly  interesting  to  me  because  it  promised  something  to 
eat.  It  was  putrid,  however,  and  in  vain  I  attempted  to 
swallow  a  bit  of  the  raw,  stinking  flesh ;  my  dry,  swollen 
throat  refused  to  pass  it.  With  an  eye  to  the  delectation  of 
Dr.  Gray  of  the  British  Museum,  I  endeavoured  to  carry 
the  skull  with  me ;  but  what  in  ordinary  times  would  have 
been  to  me  only  a  feather-weight,  now  appeared  like  a  load 
of  lead,  and  sadly  I  was  forced  to  disburden  myself  of  it. 
Once  I  shot  at  a  grouse  drumming  in  the  bush,  but  to  my 
chagrin  missed  it.  I  had  better  luck  with  a  guillemot 
swimming  in  the  sea ;  but  after  trying  to  swim  out  after  it„ 
I  found  myself  too  weak,  and  had  to  abandon  it,  and  again 
drag  my  weary  way  alcng.  Then,  to  add  to  my  troubles, 
it  began  to  rain.  To  avoid  the  shower  I  crept  into  the 
thick  umbrageous  woods  again.  Three  weeks  before,  I  was 
creeping  through  this  great  forest,  but  with  very  different 
feelings.  Then  I  wearied  for  an  Indian  village ;  now,  a 
hunted  man,  I  was  escaping  from  one  and  trying  to  reach 
another.  But  yet  I  would  not  have  gone  back  again,  even 
if  I  had  had  the  opportunity ;  and  I  determined,  if  t  could  not 
procure  a  canoe  at  the  Hashquahts'  village,  after  satisfying 
my  hunger,  to  take  the  first  opportunity  of  continuing  my 
travel  south. 

But  was  I  ever  going  to  reach  the  village  ?  was  the  fatal 
question  which  presented  itself  to  me,  as  I  felt  the  dead 
and  yet  gnawing  pangs  of  hunger,  and  the  terrible  weakness 
superinduced  by  this  famine.  My  clothes  were  in  rags,  and 
my  boots  were  beginning  to  give  way.  When  they  were  gone, 
what  was  to  become  of  me  ?  Thus  I  sat  cogitating  until  it 
was  quite  dark ;  but  I  had  formed  my  plans.  I  determined 
to  start  off  for  a  ridge  of  rocks  I  saw  about  two  miles  ahead 


t 


I* 


i 


IN   PAWN    IN   AN   INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


183 


I 


of  me,  and  there  remain  if  I  could  find  shell-fish  and  one 
of  the  numerous  streams  of  water  on  this  coast,  until  some 
passing  canoe  should  take  me  off.  I  felt  half  ashamed  of 
coming  to  such  a  dastardly  resolution  after  all  my  fine  plans. 
I  was  in  such  a  faint  condition  that,  for  some  time,  I  seemed 
to  have  lost  all  my  old  prompt  resolution,  and  sat  wavering 
which  course  I  should  adopt.  I  even  went  so  far  as  to 
draw  out  one  of  the  few  half-dollars  I  happened  to  have  in 
my  pocket,  and  commenced  to  toss  for  it,  after  the  manner 
of  a  street-boy,  "tails"  for  rocks,  "eagle"  for  village. 
"  Tails  "  won,  and  now  that  the  rain  was  over  I  crept  out 
of  my  leafy  shelter,  and  again  trudged  along  the  shore  in  the 
darkness.  The  rest  had — as  I  have  more  than  once  noticed 
under  similar  circumstances — instead  of  recruiting  my 
energies,  rather  added  to  my  weakness,  and  for  the  first  hour 
my  walk  in  and  out  of  the  woods,  and  among  the  rocks, 
was  wearisome  in  the  extreme.  Perfectly  exhausted,  I  sat 
down  to  rest,  half  uncertain  whether  I  should  ever  reach  the 
long  looked-for  rocks,  sorry  compromise  as  they  were  with 
the  village.  As  usual,  I  nodded  in  my  weariness  and  tell 
asleep  in  half-stolen  "  forty  winks"  at  intervals.  I  have 
often  tried,  but  unsuccessfully,  to  recollect  when  it  was 
that  I  first  saw  what  I  am  about  to  describe.  It  must 
have  been  when  I  woke  up  from  a  longer  doze  than  usual, 
that  I  rubbed  my  sleepy  eyes,  as  /  saw  a  light  not  half  a 
mile  ahead,  seemingly  as  if  among  the  trees  !  Could  it  be  the 
rising  moon  ?  No  !  it  could  not  be  that,  for  the  moon  was 
beginning  to  appear  at  intervals  among  the  clouds.  It  was 
a  camp-fire  of  Indians,  no  doubt.  Though  a  .jw  min.cCes 
ago  I  would  have  hailed  any  human  being  with  joy  who 
could  have  given  me  food,  yet  now  that  my  wish  seemed 
about  to  be  gratified,  the  suspicion  and  caution  misfortune 


•it 


I 


III 


184 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


had  taught  me,  made  me  backward  in  approaching  the  fire 
too  abruptly.  It  was  so  dark  that  I  knew  well  that  the 
party  round  the  fire,  whoever  they  were,  could  not  see  me 
before  I  saw  them,  so  that  I  need  not  conceal  myself  for 
some  time  yet.  Instinctively  I  looked  to  my  pistol,  and  re- 
capped my  rifle,  so  as  to  be  prepared  for  any  emergency. 
New  spirit  was  now  in  me,  and  my  whole  frame,  shaken  as 
was  my  nervous  system,  was  in  a  tremor  of  excitement. 
Cautiously  I  crept  along  under  the  shadow  of  the  trees 
which  grew  almost  down  to  the  water's  edge,  until  I  was 
within  a  couple  of  hundred  yards.  I  now  silently  stepped 
into  the  forest,  and  from  behind  a  tree  watched  the  object 
of  my  interest.  That  it  was  a  camp-fire  there  was  no  doubt, 
but  there  were  no  canoes,  that  I  could  see,  drawn  up  on  the 
beach.  Surely  it  could  not  be  white  men  !  I  could  scarcely 
keep  from  indulging  in  a  gladsome  shout  at  the  thought, 
but  I  restrained  my  joy,  for  I  had  not  been  the  vagabond 
so  long  without  learning  "  not  to  halloo  until  out  of  the 
wood." 

It  was  certainly  a  white  man's  fire ;  an  Indian  would 
never  make  such  a  pile.  He  is  too  lazy  and  too  wise  to 
build  one  so  large  that  he  can't  get  near  it  for  the  heat.  On 
tiptoe  I  approached,  halting  instantly  and  grasping  my  rifle 
firmer  if  a  twig  crackled  under  my  feet.  I  was  now  close 
on  them,  and  I  could  sc2,  by  the  light  of  the  fire,  a 
Rernbrandt-like  group — one,  two,  three,  four,  and  surely 
there  was  a  fifth — tending  the  side  of  a  deer  roasting  by  the 
fire.  They  were  talking  loudly,  as  free  men  talk  in  No 
Man's  Land,  or  in  any  man's,  friend  or  foeman.  I  approached 
still  nearer,  until  from  behind  a  fir-tree  I  could  hear  their 
voices,  and  even  scan  their  faces  as  the  lights  and  shadows 
of  the  flame  played  on  them.     They  spoke,  and  spoke  with 


^^ 


)  I 


'> 


9Bi 


IN    PAWN    IN   AN    INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


'85 


-icJafc 


./--^m 


English  tongues.  I  listened  eagerly,  and  I  could  catch  a 
word  or  two.  Good  heavens !  could  it  be  ?  I  heard  my 
own  name,  and  I  thought  that  the  voice  ought  to  be  familiar 
to  me.  It  was  old  Parleyvoo^  I  was  certain — a  name  so 
long  since  I  had  heard  it  that  it  seemed  ages.     Again  I 

listened ;  it  was  Jim  B who  was  talking,  and  he  was 

swearing  at  Parleyvoo  for  burning  the  deer.  There  was  no 
mistaking  the  oath  of  British  Commerce,  as  employed  to 
bless  the  eyes  of  the  son  of  France !  Were  my  eyes  not 
deceiving  me?  Were  my  ears  not  mocking  me?  Was 
my  brain  not  reeling  in  my  misery?  Was  it  not  all  a 
dream?  It  seemed  years  since  I  had  eaten  my  haliotis 
mollusks— ages  since  I  killed  Apollyon— and  the  time 
when  I  hunted  beaver  by  the  lake  looked  like  some  remote 
period  you  read  of  in  ancient  history. 

I  would  have  rushed  forward,  but  something  seemed  to 
restrain  me.  Western  men  are  apt,  when  alarmed  in  the 
woods  at  night,  to  shoot  by  way  of  precaution,  and  I  knew 
my  quondam  companions  were  not  less  ready  with  the  rifle 
than  their  neighbours.  I  do  not  know  well  what  tempted 
me,  but  I  remember  having  a  notion  that  I  would  go  back 
into  the  woods  and  sleep  until  daylight.     Again  I  listened  ; 

it  was  Sol  H who  was  talking,  apparently  pretty  freely 

swearing  at  old  Parleyvoo,  who  was  taking,  I  could  hear, 
too  sanguine  a  view  of  some  subject  (Sol  was  always  the 
desponding  man  of  our  party). 

"Oh,  dry  up,  man!     What's  the  good  of  talkin'  that 

way  ?     Poor  B 's  a  gone  coon  long  ago  !     You  and  he 

were  always  about  a  pair  on  ye  in  the  bush  together— better 
at  eatin'  than  trackin*.     I  never  did,  for  all  the  talk  about 

him,  think  much  o'  B as  a  bushman  ;  never  a  think  !" 

.      Then  ensued  more  talk.     I  could  see  them,  and  hear 


■> 


i86 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


P     I 


l:\ 


t.:.:l,(  - 


their  voices  as  if  wrangling,  but  I  could  make  no  sense  out 
of  it.  My  eyes  began  to  swim — I  gave  a  low  scream — I 
grasped  the  tree — I  could  see  men  starting  up  from  the  fire 
in  alarm — all  swimming  before  my  eyes  for  a  second,  and 
then  all  was  blank.  When  I  next  came  to  consciousness  I 
was  lying  alongside  the  fire,  with  old  Parleyvoo  and  Sol 
dashmg  water  in  my  face,  while  attending  on  me  with  a 
steaming  pannikin  of  tea. 

In  the  intervals  of  eating  and  tea-drinking  (unsweetened 
as  it  was,  it  was  nectar  to  me)  they  told  their  story  and  I 
told  mine.  Next  day  after  my  loss,  on  my  not  returning  to 
camp,  they  had  gone  out  in  the  rain,  and  fired  shots  far  and 
near ;  but  hearing  none  in  response,  they  presumed  that  I 
had  either  been  killed  over  a  precipice,  or  made  for  the 
opposite  coast.  They  waited  at  the  camp  two  days  longer, 
still  signalling,  but,  as  the  reader  knows,  without  avail. 
They  then  put  their  furs  and  all  their  heavier  baggage  in 
the  canoe,  which  they  dispatched  to  Victoria  with  the 
Indians,  while,  lightly  equipped,  they  took  their  journey  for 
the  west  coast.  Like  me,  they  had  struck  the  narrow  lake, 
but  lower  down,  and  had  unluckily  taken  the  route  by  its 
southern  end.  They  soon  got  entangled  among  mountains, 
range  after  range,  and  though  they  found  deer  and  elk  there 
in  abundance,  they  were  almost  in  despair  of  ever  reaching 
the  coast.  Finally,  only  two  days  before  I  had  fallen  in 
with  them  so  opportunely,  they  reached  the  sea  here,  and 
had  been  waiting  to  recruit  themselves  before  going  in 
search  of  an  Indian  village.  They  had  no  idea  where  they 
were,  and  thought  of  going  north ;  luckily,  I  could  warn 
them  against  Ma/.  When  I  told  them  of  my  troubles,  of 
course  old  Parleyvoo  insisted  on  our  tramping  up  to  the 
village  to  exterminate  the  Indians,  root  and  branch;  but 


^.. 


\ 


I 


I 


J 


^£1 


«» 


i^v 


ATTACK  OF  THE  HASHQUAHTS. 


^ 


"   s 


I«N    PAWN    IN    AN    INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


189 


finding  that  there  was  not  the  sHghtest  likehhood  of  our 
going,  he  was  hard  to  pacify.  He  had  more  than  once  to 
be  reminded  that  Mrs.  P.  might  not  exactly  be  pleased  if 
she  knew  that  her  kinsfolk  had  been  so  badly  used,  before,  in 
Western  parlance,  he  would  "  dry  up."  Then,  after  I  had 
eaten  and  drunk  to  repletion,  they  threw  more  wood  on  the 
fire,  and  each  man  opened  his  pack ;  out  of  one  was  pro- 
duced my  spare  breeches,  out  of  another  a  shirt,  and  so  on, 
until  once  more  I  was  decently  clad,  in  place  of  the  rags  I 
had  been  gradually  getting  reduced  to.  It  was  almost 
morning  before  I  could  get  to  sleep,  and  even  then  I  some- 
times woke  in  fright  at  the  blue-blanketed,  mummy-like 
figures  around  me,  thinking  that  I  was  again  in  the  hated 
Muchlaht  village. 

We  stayed  here  all  the  next  day,  and  then  by  easy 
marches  we  moved  on.  In  two  days  we  came  to  the 
Hashquaht  village,  where  we  were  received  with  all  the 
respect  usually  accorded  to  six  armed  white  men.  Here 
we  also  found  the  trader  I  had  so  long  waited  for,  who 
supplied  all  our  wants,  and  enjoyed  a  good  laugh  at  the 
way  I  had  been  treated.  He  was  astonished  that  I  had 
ever  expected  anything  else.  He  was  not  so  pleased,  how- 
ever, when  he  heard  of  Apollyon's  death ;  that  sinister 
savage  being  deeply  in  his  debt.  Indeed,  the  only  thing 
which  really  damped  my  happiness  now  was  the  thought  of 
having  this  rascal's  blood  on  my  head.  But  I  need  not 
have  been  so  anxious ;  I  did  not  appreciate  the  thickness 
of  Indian  skulls  so  accurately  as  I  had  reason  to  do  shortly 
afterwards. 

In  a  day  or  two  the  Hashquahts  returned  victorious, 
with  many  heads  and  much  plunder,  from  the  different 
Muchlaht  villages  which  they   had  attacked.     They  had. 


1 90 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


I  M 


however,  only  one  prifoner,  and  that  was  my  quondam 
friend  ApoUyon,  whom  I  had  no  difficulty  in  recognising, 
in  spite  of  the  contused  forehead  and  beautiful  black  eye  ! 
He  seemed  almost  stupefied  at  seeing  me ;  but  imme- 
diately, true  to  his  instincts  now  that  he  was  in  trouble, 
began  to  "  toady  "  me,  and  had  even  the  impudence  to 
wish  me  to  buy  him.  Old  Parleyvoo  thought  it  rather  a 
good  idea,  if  we  could  get  him  cheap,  and  "  work  him  too, 
like  sin!"  but  we  determined  to  lenve  him  in  durance  vile 
to  repent  of  his  iniquities.  I  had  no  curiosity  to  inquire 
how  he  had  recovered,  or  whether  it  was  owing  to  the  slight 
obfuscation  of  his  Hmited  intellect  caused  by  my  rifle-butt, 
or  to  his  innate  cowardice,  that  he  had  been  captured.  At 
all  events  he  had  my  "  papers "  safe  enough,  and  even 
presented  them  to  the  trader.  By  my  order  he  got  paid 
for  a  fair  share,  while  the  trader  was  directed  to  whom  to 
pay  the  rest,  and  particularly  to  the  women  who  had  so 
kindly  assisted  me  in  my  flight.  The  trader  himself  soon 
ran  north  to  the  Muchlahts'  village,  rightly  calculating  that 
they  would  be  short  of  powder.  I  told  him  that  if  he  could 
persuade  the  half-breed  girl  to  come  to  Victoria,  I  might,  I 
thought,  interest  some  charitable  people  on  her  behalf  He 
was,  however,  drowned  on  his  return  voyage,  and  as  I 
shortly  afterwards  left  that  part  of  the  country,  I  could 
never  learn  what  became  of  her.  We  soon  obtained  a  large 
canoe,  and  with  comparatively  few  adventures,  in  the  course 
of  a  few  days  reached  the  regions  of  civilisation. 

Several  years  have  now  elapsed  since  then,  and  amid 
the  rush  of  civilised  life,  the  salient  features  of  the  adven- 
tures I  have  attempted  as  faithfully  as  possible  to  record 
pass  before  me  as  shadowy  phantasms.  Sometimes  the 
whole  looks  like  a  dream,  and  the  beaver-camp,  the  wolves 


IN    PAWN    IN   AN    INDIAN   VILLAGE. 


191 


ai  the  lake,  the  Indian  village,  the  escape,  and  the  1  appy 
meeting  seem  to  me  unreal,  and  like  something  I  have 
read  in  a  story-book  years  ago.  But  when  I  turn  up  my 
sleeve,  and  look  at  a  scar  on  my  arm,  I  am  again  reminded 
how  veritably,  once  in  my  life,  I  was  "in  pawn  in  an 
Indian  village." 


1, 

I 


A    DOCTOR'S  LIFE  AMONG  THE  NORTH- 
AMERICAN  INDIANS. 

By  R.  Brown,  Ph.D.,  etc. 


I  HAVE  read  in  missionary  journals,  and  in  some  others  by 
no  means  missionary,  that  if  a  traveller  wants  to  get  along 
swimmingly  with  any  savage  people  among  whom  he  may 
be  sojourning  he  should  by  all  means  possess  a  knowledge 
of  medicine,  and,  by  inference,  be  practising  his  medical 
skill  on  the  unfortunate  barbarians  who  are  for  the  time 
being  his  neighbours.  So  often  do  I  hear  this  that  if  there 
be  any  truth  in  what  everybody — or  nearly  everybody — 
says,  then  this,  among  other  plausible  statements,  must 
be  received  into  the  same  category  as  Holy  Writ.  I 
don't  want  to  be  disagreeably  sceptical  about  any  such 
theories,  only,  unfortunately,  my  experience,  so  far  as  it 
goes,  is  rather  in  opposition  to  this.  I  don't  for  a  moment 
doubt  that  a  good  knowledge  of  surgery  may  help  a  traveller. 
Surgery  the  most  obtuse  savage  can  see  the  eftects  of,  and 
know  that  in  this  department  he  can  do  little  or  nothing. 
I  will  even  allow  that  after  one  has  been  long  resident 
among  any  body  of  people  his  knowledge  of  pure  medicine 
may  gain  him  their  confidence.  But  at  first  he  had  better 
keep  clear  of  all  amateur  doctoring,  especially  if  there 
happen  to  be  a  native  medical  faculty ;    and    this  there 


AMONG   THE   NORTH-AMERICAN   INDIANS. 


193 


almost  invariably  is,  whether  under  the  name  of  obi-men, 
medicine-men,  or   sleight-of-hand   necromancers    generally. 
A  savage  views  the  new-comer  with  all  the  dogged,  sullen 
suspicion  of  an  ignorant  people  living  to  and  by  themselves. 
His  medical  knowledge  is  looked  upon  with  equal  scepticism, 
and  even  contempt.      Accordingly,  when  a  savage  is  sick 
he  will  apply  to  the  recognised  medicine-man,  or  sorcerer, 
of  his  tribe  or  village,  to  cure  him  by  the  incantations  and 
foolery  which  time-honoured  tradition  has  hallowed  in  his 
eyes.     If  he  ever  applies  to  the  pale-faced  traveller,  it  will 
only  be  when  he  is  just  at  his  last  gasp,  and  has  lost  belief 
in  his  own  medicine-man;    the  chances  then  are  that  the 
best  physicians  in  Europe  could  not  save  him.     Now  it  is 
that  the  cunning  medicine-man — whose  professional  jealousy 
has  been  roused — will  work  on  the  credulous,  suspicious 
minds  of  the  natives,  and  as  he  has  the  infinite  advantage 
over  you  in  knowing  the  language  and  the  modes  of  thought 
of  his  countrymen,  the  chances  are  that  he  will   do  you 
mischief.      Here's  the  way  he  reasons  : — *'  The  patient  was 
on  a  fair  way  to  recover,  he  had  caught  the  little  devil  that 
caused   the  sickness ;    once  he   had   slipped   through   his 
fingers,  but  he  would  have  been  sure  to  have  caught  him 
the  second  time,  and  either  burnt  or  drowned  him,  when 
this  ignorant  fellow,  whom  nobody  knows  anything  about, 
and  may  be,  for  all  we  know,  anxious  to  introduce  small- pox 
or  other  terrible  white  men's  disease  among  our  people, 
interferes,  and  you  see  the  result."     The  argument  is  not 
very  convincing  to  the  reader,  but  it  is  decidedly  so  to  the 
relatives   of  the   dead   man  who  is   lying  in   that   savage 
village  ;  and  it  is  just  about  that  time  that  the  unfortunate 
philanthropist  wishes  that  he  had  never  known  anything 
about  purgative  pills,  or  the  virtue  of  any  drug  whatever. 


),'■ 


194 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


' 


If  he  only  gets  kicked  out  of  the  village,  or  sent  on  his  way 
with  anyliiing  but  blessings  on  his  head,  he  may  think  himself 
remarkably  well  out  of  the  scrape.  I  very  nearly  came  to 
a  much  worse  fate. 

I  was  very  young  when  I  first  set  out  on  my  travels,  and 
endowed  with  very  much  more  philanthropy  towards  my 
savage  brother  than  I  happen  to  possess  just  now.  I  had 
not  only  been  instructed  in  the  principles  of  medicine,  but 
had  received  a  regular  medical  education,  so  that  I  could 
not  be  called  a,  mere  dabbler  in  physic.  I  was,  of  course, 
continually  told  that  comforting  doctrine  about  the  value  of 
my  knowledge  among  the  savages  whom  I  proposed  visiting, 
and  frequently  burned  to  put  my  ideas  into  practice  on  the 
*•  vile  body ''  of  any  sick  savage  whom  I  could  come  across. 
It  was  not  long  before  I  was  gratified.  My  first  experimental 
journey  was  made  with  a  well-known  Indian  trader,  and  not 
long  after  bidding  farewell  to  civilisation  we  halted  at  an 
Indian  village,  belonging  to  the  tribe  into  which  my  friend 
the  trader  had  married.  His  wife,  who  was  with  us,  made 
herself  very  useful  at  times.  The  chief  was  lying  ill,  and  the 
medicine-men  were  in  full  force  around  him,  but  hitherto  had 
made  no  impression  on  him.  In  my  zeal,  I  hinted  that  I 
thought  I  could  do  something  for  him ;  and  as  he  informed 
me  that  he  failed  to  get  any  sleep  for  days  past,  I  considered 
that  I  could  not  do  better  than  give  him  a  dose  of  opium, 
which  I  did.  And,  amid  the  scowls  of  the  medicine-men, 
and  the  plaudits  of  the  chiefs  family,  the  old  man  was 
sleeping  when  we  left  the  village.  I  was  decidedly  proud 
of  my  first  success,  but  my  triumph  was  short  lived.  The 
trader,  after  making  a  journey  a  few  days  further  on,  began 
to  return  over  the  same  road  again.  All  went  well  with  us, 
for  my  friend  was  a  power  in  that  part  of  the  country,  until 


7' 


|H> 


■Jl 


THE  CHIEF,   IN   FULL  WAR  DRESS. 


N    2 


AMONG  THE   NORTH-AMERICAN    INDIANS. 


197 


we  were  about  half  a  day's  journey  from  the  village  where  I 
had  preformed  my  medical  exploit.  We  were  congratulating 
ourselves  on  the  prospect  of  the  good  reception  we  should 
receive  from  the  chief  whom  we  hoped  was  now  on  his  legs 
again,  when  we  were  startled  by  the  sight  of  an  Indian 
sitting  by  the  side  of  the  path.  He  was  the  trader's  brother- 
in-law,  and  a  particular  friend  of  his.  We,  of  course,  saluted 
him  in  a  cheerful  manner,  not  unmixed  with  the  patronising 
air  that  philanthropists  will  assume  to  their  less  benevolent 
fellow-rnen.  But  our  clawhowya  was  returned  with  a  de- 
sponding air,  and  a  peculiar  glance  towards  us,  and  more 
particularly  in  my  direction,  from  under  his  heavy  eyebrows. 
The  "Hemlock  Fir" — for  such,  being  translated,  was  the 
cognomen  of  our  friend — was  the  bearer  of  evil  tidings,  most 
depressing  news  indeed.  It  was  a  long  time  before  he  came 
out  with  it,  but  at  last  it  did  come  in  all  its  disagreeable 
features.  The  chief,  my  patient,  was  dead.  In  fact,  he 
had  got  into  a  sound  sleep — so  sound,  indeed,  that  he 
never  awoke  again.  The  tribe  was  very  excited  on  the 
subject,  and  declared — of  course  he  did  not  believe  it — 
that  between  us  we  had  conspired  to  kill  the  chief.  This 
suspicion  was  all  the  worse  because,  just  two  days  before, 
a  rival  trader  had  been  at  the  village,  and,  on  mentioning 
their  suspicions  to  him,  he  assured  them  that  nothing  was 
more  likely,  because  he  knew  that  my  companion  was  one 
of  the  greatest  rascals  living,  and  he  never  doubted  but  that 
his  friend,  the  doctor,  was,  if  possible,  a  worse  rogue  !  The 
result  was  that  when  he  quietly  left  the  village  they  were 
drowning  their  griefs  in  the  flowing  bowl,  and  were  in  such 
a  state  of  excitement  with  loyal  grief  and  whisky  that  he 
feared  they  might,  in  the  excitement  of  the  moment,  kill  us. 
For  me,  the  messenger  was  good  enough  to  remark,  he 


mmm 


198 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


didn't  care  much,  as  he  had  not  known  me  long,  and  I  had 
never  given  him  much  ;  of  course,  for  the  trader,  he  had 
feelings  of  regard,  for,  independently  of  the  trifle  of  being 
his  brother-in-law,  he  had  in  times  gone  by  received  from 
him  many  blue  blankets,  and,  what  was  much  more  to  the 
purpose,  expected  to  receive  many  more  in  the  future. 
Accordingly,  he  had  dropped  ahead  to  warn  him,  for, 
unfortunately,  under  the  influence  of  the  whisky,  they  had 

recollected  that  W .  my  companion,  had  once,  some 

years  before,  had  a  quarrel  with  the  chief,  and  they  were 
certain  that  he  had  only  used  me  as  an  instrument  to  carry 
out  the  destruction  of  his  enemy,  and  might,  therefore,  be 
inclined  to  include  him  in  the  intended  revenge.  Therefore 
the  Indian  thought  that,  if  we  set  much  value  on  our  lives 
just  now,  we  had  better  keep  out  oi  the  way  for  a  while, 
and,  at  all  events  on  this  particular  journey,  avoid  the  irate 
village  by  working  round  in  another  direction.  That  was 
all  the  news ;  he  had  nothing  more  to  say.  Tableau : 
Indian  smoking  a  pipe,  with  his  blanket  around  him, 
perfectly  unconcerned  ;  trader  leaning  against  a  tree,  with 
a  number  oi  his  Indian  attendants  squatted  on  the  ground 
open-mouthed  ;  while  the  writer  of  these  words  was  sitting 
whittling  a  stick,  in  that  condition  of  mind  sufficiently 
expressed  by  the  word  "cheap!"  It  was  a  study  for  a 
painter.     For  five  minutes  nobody  spoke. 

At  last  the  trader,  after  breaking  the  silence  with  an 
initiatory  oath,  eased  his  pent-up  feelings  by  a  perfect  flood 
of  curses  on  me,  on  the  Colleges  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons, 
on  the  Apothecaries'  Company,  and  the  whole  medical 
faculty,  Indians,  and  Indian  chiefs,  past,  present,  and  to 
come.  I  really  do  not  remember  any  man,  even  in  Western 
.  America,  swearing  so  heartily  and  so  long  at  one  stretch. 


AMONG  THE    NORTH-AMERICAN    INDIANS. 


199 


After  having  exhausted  himself,  he  felt  better  able  to  discuss 
matters.  There  was  too  little  ground,  knowing  as  he  did 
the  Indian  character,  to  doubt  that  the  forebodings  of  the 
messenger  had  good  foundation,  and  that  if  we  expected  to 
retain  our  heads  long  on  our  shoulders,  we  had  better  take 
the  back  track  as  soon  as  possible.  It  was  in  vain  I  told 
him  that  the  dose  was  not  sufficient  to  poison  a  child,  that 
the  chief  had  died  of  natural  decay  or  oi  disease — in  fact, 
that  it  was  all  nonsense.  He  never,  for  his  own  part, 
doubted  the  fact,  he  assured  me ;  but  what  did  that  matter, 
so  long  as  the  apostrophised  Indians  believed  the  opposite  ? 
Such  was  the  unavoidable  state  of  the  case,  and  meanwhile 
I  wr.s  admonished  to  put  as  long  a  distance  as  I  could 
between  the  Indians  and  my  scalp — and  that  we  did,  though 
the  back  trail  was  a  bad  one.  In  fact,  we  had  only  begun 
to  enjoy  the  good  travel,  when  periorce  we  had  to  retrace 
our  weary  steps. 

That  night  we  travelled  long  after  sundown  ;  we  were 
too  weary  (or  afraid  was  it  ?)  to  light  a  fire  for  the  night, 
and  by  dawn  were  off  again.  Indeed,  it  was  not  until 
we  thought  that  we  were  safely  out  of  the  Indians'  reach, 
that  we  made  a  lengthened  halt  to  recruit  ourselves  and 
animals.  On  the  second  day  at  this  halt,  the  trader's  wife, 
whom  he  had  left  behind  in  the  village  until  his  return, 
overtook  us.  She  had  got  a  hint  from  her  brother,  and  had 
stolen  off  in  the  night,  travelling  continuously,  afraid  that 
her  husband  might  never  be  able  to  see  that  village  again, 
and,  in  fact,  give  her  the  slip.  She  was  in  exceedingly  bad 
humour,  and  commenced  abusing  us,  from  a  safe  distance, 
in  some  outlandish  language.  Then  the  cursory  remarks 
were  taken  up  by  her  husband,  who  I  could  see  was  in 
no  way  very  pleased  at  the  unexpected  appearance  of  his 


IM 


1 


I 


200 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


brevet-spouse,  until  enough  of  anathemas  were  vented  on 
my  head  to  suffice  for  one  lifetime.  I  got  quite  accustomed 
to  them  in  course  of  time,  and  treated  a  string  of  oaths  five 
minutes  long  as  quite  a  playful  discharge  of  animal  spirits 
on  the  part  of  my  friends  in  the  fur-trading  line.  The  end 
of  it  was  that  my  companion's  ire  was  somewhat  abated,  for 
so  fast  had  we  travelled  that  when  we  arrived  at  the  nearest 
trading-post  we  discovered  that  we  were  rather  early  in  the 
market,  and  the  "good  thing"  which  he  made  of  his  packs 
of  furs  somewhat  consoled  him  for  his  misfortune.  It  was, 
however,  a  long  time  before  he  dared  again  visit  the  fatal 
Indian  village — indeed,  not  until  I  was  out  of  the  country. 
Then,  with  the  coolest  impudence,  he  informed  me  he  wriggled 
out  of  the  scrape  by  laying  the  whole  blame  of  the  chiefs 
death  on  my  head,  and  informing  the  whole  village  in 
council  assembled  that,  so  far  from  being  incapable  of 
poisoning  the  chief,  his  private  opinion  was  that  if  it  had  not 
been  for  his  good  example,  and  the  want  of  drugs,  I  would 
have  devoted  to  death  the  whole  Indian  nation  ! 

That  I  never  tried  medical  practice  among  the  Indians 
again,  it  will  hardly  be  necessary  to  tell  the  reader.  Some 
years  afterwards,  I  was,  however — from  no  choice  of  mine, 
but  rather  from  necessity — forced  to  put  my  surgical  skill  to 
the  test,  and  this  time  with  rather  better  success.  I  was  then 
roaming  about  among  the  wild  primeval  forests  on  the 
northern  shores  of  the  Pacific.  One  day  I  started  oft'  from 
an  Indian  village  on  the  coast  for  a  few  days'  journey  into 
the  interior.  My  only  companion  was  a  native  boy,  who 
carried  my  blanket,  hatchet,  tin  kettle,  and  one  or  two  odds 
and  ends  of  food  and  impedimenta — articles  which  diminish 
in  a  wonderfully  exact  ratio  to  the  time  one  has  been  "out " 
in  those  regions.     Ours  were  accordingly  not  very  burden- 


^Jk 


H 


J 


— ^ ■- ' :-.-._.-     -      __ ■_-: 

t    ^ -" —:—^ : 

p-:r-    •-:--                    .-     .            ---. ;.-;r^ 

t-" 5:— -  _ ■ —     "-- —               "  --    -  _^- 

■' ^~ z~--r -  -         "      — -    — - 

P"-   -- — "' -      -         ; 

1      7-,                    -^ ■= TT.r-. :-z.- ~. T—  _ 

1- .  -  r^ i :. -       ------ 

t----    .--  ;_-    --          -    ---^==- -— : 

fe: — -  ---..--■--  -       :-^-  --Tf 

^^M ^^^ :— — , : -_..;   - 

i^^A-       -^:— '-- -  /. ..-        : 

|HH -r-. Z-. — ^;— = 

^^^B 

^ — -1 -:_^ 

^^^^^^V          . __ ■ 

^^■--r- r— — ■       -.r^ ■ ■ 

W^K : —      " -— 

^^V               -  —                     — - 

^^^Bv ■ 

^^Hr~ . 

^K 

^Pl '■ ■ -  - 

■inrr"" 

^ . .    -. 

^■'^    ^ —  " ~ -^— r; — : 

li^\      ^BH^SS^hI^^^          — . —  — 

^^Bl              ^^^^IF^      _  ^iMM^^^^^ 

irWi^^^n^ 

^ ->^^Hrw&w    7  1^ —  ~ 

^'^^S^s  '%j9bk  v^StcfRS^SSxSsSS^^^ — 

INDIAN  OF  THE  OREGON   TERRITORY. 


■■ 


"■ 


AMONG   THE   NORTH-AMERICAN    INDIANS. 


203 


t. 


H 


some,  and  lightly  equipped,  we  dived  deeper  and  deeper 
into  the  dense  forest,  until  from  a  hill  we  lost  sight  of  the 
sea.  Then  I  knew  well  that  I  was  safe  of  my  Indian  boy's 
companionship,  for  an  Indian  of  the  North  Pacific  seaboard 
is  always  in  a  state  of  mortal  terror  the  moment  he  is  out  of 
sight  of  his  native  village  ;  unless  he  happens  to  be  a  hunter 
— which  few  in  these  fish-eating  tribes  are — he  quite  loses 
his  head  in  any  difficulty,  when  the  roar  of  the  familiar 
ocean  is  not  sounding  in  his  ears.  These  dark  forest  glades 
are  peopled  with  all  sorts  of  hobgoblins,  ever  seeking  the 
destruction  of  the  luckless  Indian  ;  and  hence  'i  he  does 
venture  so  far  in,  it  is  only  under  the  aegis  of  the  white  man, 
whose  wondrous  many-shooting  instruments  act  as  a  sure 
protection.  Even  then  you  can  never  be  certain  that  you 
will  not  wake  up  in  the  morning  to  find  yourself  alone  in 
these  wilds,  with  your  baggage,  such  as  it  is,  all  around  you 
' — the  porters  having,  in  terror  of  the  unknown  dangers  into 
which  you  are  leading,  taken  the  opportunity  to  return 
under  cover  of  darkness.  Once  out  of  sight  of  the  sea,  you 
are  tolerably  safe;  for  they  are  poor  trailers,  and  in  the 
forest,  instead  of "  guiding  "  the  white  man,  according  to  the 
familiar  story-book  fashion,  they  dog  his  heels,  and  take 
shelter  in  his  rear  on  the  first  sign  of  alarm,  and  consequently 
are  of  but  little  use  either  as  guides  or  protectors.  Thesf 
North-western  lorests,  unlike  the  Eastern  American  woods, 
are  difficult  to  travel  in.  The  interspaces  between  the  tall 
fir-trees  are  nearly  everywhere  densely  packed  with  a 
luxuriant  undergrowth  of  shrubbery,  which  at  first  appears 
totally  impenetrable,  and  which  renders  the  traveller's 
progress  slow  and  difficult.  The  streams,  which  everywhere 
meander  through  this  dense  forest,  are  often  perfectly  arched 
over  with  the  branches  of  the  shrubs  which  grow  on  their 


204 


wondp:rful  adventures. 


banks  ;  and  the  first  intimation  which  is  sometimes  given  of 
their  presence  is  the  sudden  disappearance  of  the  pedestrian ; 
for  the  weary  explorer,  as  he  pushes  at  random  into  what 
he  only  considers  a  mass  of  bushes,  plumps  up  to  the 
middle,  if  not  over  his  head,  into  an  icy-cold  stream.  The 
route  is  interrupted  by  deep,  rocky  ravines,  over  which  a 
fallen  tree  affords  a  natural  bridge,  which,  though  it  is 
sufficiently  secure,  and  strong  enough  to  bear  a  considerable 
weight,  is  nevertheless  very  often  difficult  to  cross  with 
safety  owing  to  its  shape.  In  wet  weather,  when  it  has 
become  soaked  with  rain,  it  is  apt  to  be  very  slippery  and 
dangerous. 

It  was  at  one  of  these  ravines  that  our  troubles  began. 
We  had  travelled  one  day,  camping  out  at  night,  and  had 
set  off  early  next  morning  to  search  the  neighbouring 
mountain  for  deer.  Some  rain  had  fallen  in  the  night, 
and  the  unbarked  log  over  which  we  were  crossing  a 
"  gulch  '*  was  very  slippery.  I  passed  in  safety  ;  but  when 
half-way  across,  the  youth  overbalanced  himself,  and 
with  a  yell  he  went  headlong  into  the  ravine.  I  was 
watching  his  progress  from  the  opposite  side,  but  was 
so  stunned  by  the  accident  that  it  was  some  minutes  before 
I  had  presence  of  mind  enough  to  stir.  The  gulch  ended 
at  a  little  river,  up  which  we  had  paddled  a  few  miles  the 
first  day,  until  it  became  too  full  of  rapids,  and  then  we  had 
left  the  canoe  and  taken  to  land.  I  found  that  the  only 
way  to  reach  the  Indian  (who,  by  his  lusty  yells,  I  knew 
was  far  from  being  killed,  as  I  had  at  first  imagined) 
was  to  go  down  to  the  river,  and  then  crawl  up  the  gulch. 
This  I  did,  and  a  toilsome  task  it  was.  The  boy  seemed 
rather  astonished  to  see  me,  for  when  I  disappeared  he  had 
doubtless  imagined  that,   Indian  lashion,  I  had  intended 


AMONG   THE   NORTH-AMERICAN   INDIANS. 


205 


deserting  liim,  and  eidier  clearing  off  entirely  or  "  buying 
his  body"  from  his  relatives.  His  fall  had  been  broken 
by  some  branches,  and  though  badly  bruised,  it  appeared 
unt  he  had  sustained  very  few  serious  external  injuries,  and 
n?  complained  of  none  internally.  On  trying  to  walk, 
however,  he  found  he  could  not  stand — his  thigh  had  been 
fractured.  Here  was  a  mess !  indeed,  at  that  moment  I 
was  unphilanthropic  enough  to  wish  that,  for  the  benefit  of 
himself  and  whoever  else  it  might  concern,  he  had  been 
killed  outright.  However,  for  the  time  being  I  was  the 
individual,  next  to  himself,  chiefly  concerned,  and  had  to 
set  myself  to  devise  means  to  save  the  lad's  life,  Indian 
though  he  was.  On  examining  the  fracture  I  was  glad  to 
find  that  the  bone  was  only  fractured,  the  ends  not  being 
displaced.     This  was  one  blessing. 

The  next  thing  to  be  done  was  to  remove  him  from  the 
place  where  he  was  lying,  among  dead  trees  and  water. 
My  first  attempt  was  naturally  to  get  him  out  by  the  way  I 
had  got  into  the  gully ;  but  this  was  found  impracticable. 
Twice  I  attempted  to  climb  the  bank  with  him  clinging 
round  my  neck,  but  twice  I  failed  ;  on  one  of  the  trials, 
indeed,  tumbling  backwards  into  the  river — luckily  very 
shallow,  though  it  might  have  been  better  for  my  skin  if  it 
had  been  a  little  deeper.  My  next  move  was  to  carry  the 
youngster  to  the  edge  of  the  ravine,  near  to  the  place  where 
he  fell ;  then  to  go  up  and  fasten  the  end  of  the  rope  which 
bound  my  blanket  (and  which,  for  the  sake  of  convenience 
for  other  purposes,  was  long)  to  a  tree,  then  to  let  myself 
down  into  the  hollow,  and  with  the  ''slack"  of  the  rope 
bind  the  boy  securely  in  our  two  blankets,  and  finally  to 
reascend,  and  hoist  him  up.  This,  I  soon  found,  was  rather 
an  awkward  task,  and  the  boy's  head  and  body  bumped 


205 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


v-isjainst  the  trees  and  rocky  sides  of  the  gulch  rather  more 
frequtiitly  than  was  agreeable  to  him.  Finally,  however,  I 
was  successful  in  getting  him  up  all  right,  minus  a  few  more 
bruises  and  his  fractured  limb.  Once  again  on  level  ground, 
my  troubles  commenced  anew.  Though  the  limb  was 
swelling,  a  renewed  examination  satisfied  me  that  the  bones 
were  not  yet  displaced  ;  but  bandaged  they  must  be  some- 
how. Bandages  or  splints  of  any  sort  I  had  none.  What 
was  to  be  done?  was  the  question  I  set  myself  to  think 
out,  as  I  sat  down  to  rest  by  the  side  of  my  wounded 
henchman. 

His  clothing  consisted  only  of  a  very  dirty  cotton  shirt 
and  a  blanket  pinned  around  him.  I  considered,  after  due 
deliberation,  that  for  a  young  man  in  his  walk  of  life  a  shirt 
was  quite  a  superfluous  article  of  clothing.  Accordingly, 
without  consulting  him,  though  indeed  not  without  some 
mild  remonstrances  on  his  part,  the  shirt  was  drawn  off  him 
and  cut  up  into  bandages ;  the  needle  and  thread,  without 
which  no  traveller  of  any  experience  ever  goes  far,  supplying 
the  necessary  materials  for  sewing  them  into  one  long  strip  of 
cotton.  Now  for  splints.  The  nearest  approach  to  paste- 
board which  I  could  see  was  the  smooth,  tough  bark  of  the 
cedar  ( Thuja  gigantea)^  which  peels  off  in  thin  sheets,  and 
out  of  which  the  Indians  make  all  sorts  of  domestic  wares. 
A  short  search  supplied  me  with  the  bark  in  abundance, 
and  now  commenced  my  improvised  surgery.  The  moss, 
with  which  the  trees  were  hoary,  supplied  padding  in  room 
of  cotton ;  over  this  were  wrapped  the  sheets  of  cedar  bark, 
and  then  around  all  was  tightly  bound  the  shirt-made 
bandage,  the  whole  being  well  drenched  with  cold  water  on 
the  outside,  while  the  surgeon  and  his  patient  refreshed 
themselves  with  a  pull  at  some   stronger  waters  for  the 


^. 


\MONG  THE    NORTH-AMERICAN    INDIANS. 


207 


comfort  of  their  inner  man.  How  was  he  now  to  be  got 
home  ?  Could  he  not  be  made  to  hop  all  the  way  ?  These 
boys  were  able  to  hop  a  long  time  in  play,  and  though  it 
might  be  rather  more  troublesome  to  hop  a  couple  of  days 
through  a  primeval  forest,  it  might  only  serve  the  little  rascal 
right.  The  idea  was  so  comical  that  I  burst  out  in  a  loud 
laugh  at  the  thought,  much  to  the  wonder  of  the  boy,  who 
was  groaning  close  by ;  but  I  was  afraid  it  wouldn't  work,, 
so  it  had  to  be  dismissed.  To  float  him  down  the  river  was 
out  of  the  question,  for  besides  the  fact  of  there  being 
nothing  at  hand  to  float  him  on,  there  was  not  water  enough 
here  to  float  a  cat.  Equally  impracticable  was  the  notion  of 
remaining  where  I  was  until  he  either  got  well  or  died,  for 
at  the  earliest  six  weeks  was  rather  too  long  to  remain  out 
there,  dependent  on  what  I  might  kill.  The  youth  decidedly 
objected  to  being  left  alone  until  I  returned  for  help;  in  fact, 
he  commenced  crying  piteously  whenever  I  mentioned  the 
subject.  He  was  afraid  of  being  eaten  by  wolves — of  a 
hundred  things  that  I  had  never  imagined.  The  truth  was, 
he  was  afraid  that  I  was  going  to  leave  him  to  himself.  I 
couldn't  stand  the  boy  crying.  If  there  had  been  only  three 
of  us,  we  could  easily  have  made  a  stretcher  with  two  poles 
and  a  blanket,  but  there  were  only  two ;  so  there  was 
nothing  for  it  but  to  adopt  the  primitive  plan  of  carrying 
him  on  my  back.  This  was  not  very  easy,  for  the  only  way 
I  could  do  it  was  to  allow  him  to  hang  on  to  my  shoulders 
or  around  my  neck  in  the  best  way  he  could ;  for  I  could 
not  catch  held  of  his  legs  with  my  hands,  on  account  of  his 
broken  limb.  This  settled,  the  next  question  was  our  route. 
Though  we  had  been  out  more  than  a  day  from  the  Indian 
village,  I  knew  that  we  were  not  distant  a  day's  travel,  for 
since  leaving  the  canoe  we  had  not  gone  in  anything  like  a 


m 


208 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


Straight  line,  indeed,  had  pretty  well  kept  by  the  banks  of 
the  river,  which  I  remembered  had  described  a  great  curve, 
so  that  the  place  where  the  canoe  had  been  left  could  be 
pretty  nearly  reached  if  we  cut  straight  across  country  until 
we  again  struck  the  river.  And  so  we  took  up  our  weary 
march — the  boy  on  my  back,  on  his  back  my  blanket,  and 
on  the  top  of  all  our  tin  "  billy,"  which  kept  up  a  cheery 
rattle  as  we  jogged  along.  If  travel  under  ordinary  circum- 
stances through  these  forests  is  not  good,  certainly  with  a 
sick  Indian  on  your  back  it  becomes  well-nigh  intolerable. 
The  day  was  hot  even  under  the  shadow  of  those  great 
trees,  and  the  boy  smelt  decidedly  of  stale  fish — what  else 
could  he  smell  of,  who  had  lived  on  dried  salmon  all 
his  life?  From  long  experience  of  his  race,  I  concluded 
that  he  was  even  less  cleanly  than  was  at  first  sight 
palpable  to  the  eye  unassisted  by  a  minute  search.  I 
didn't  much  like  the  way  the  noble  savage  scratched  his 
matted  locks  when  we  stopped,  as  we  did  every  ten  minutes 
or  so,  to  rest.  Not  unfrequently,  also,  I  tripped  up  over 
fallen  trees ;  and  once,  fording  a  mountain  stream,  I  slipped 
overhead  in  a  nasty  deep  hole,  to  the  vast  astonishment  of 
the  youth,  who  was  quietly  slipping  down  river  when  I 
caught  hold  of  him  by  the  scalp-lock.  I  was,  however,  a 
man  doing  a  duty,  and  doggedly  went  about  my  task,  not 
caring  very  much,  indeed,  who  was  drowned.  I  was  in  no 
temper  to  bother  myself  about  trifles,  and  it  would  have 
been  dangerous  to  have  approached  me  just  then  in  refer- 
ence to  many  sublunary  matters.  The  youth,  who  was 
now  and  then  relapsing  into  a  talkat"ve  mood,  was  per- 
emptorily silenced  under  pain  of  being  set  down.  I 
shouldn't  wonder — though  I  was  too  busy  to  keep  a  note 
of  it — if  I  indulged  in  strong  language  when  I   took  a 


■  'f'  \ 


MY    PATIENTS    FATHEK. 


AMONG   THE   NORTH-AMERICAN    INDIANS. 


211 


particularly  bad  header  into  some  very  prickly  salmon-berry 
bushes ;  but,  under  the  circumstances,  I  don't  suppose  that 
this  verbal  turpitude  will  ever  be  laid  to  my  charge. 
Surely  if  any  member  of  the  Humane  Society,  or  the  Society 
for  the  Protection  of  Aborigines,  had  seen  at  that  moment 
a  member  of  a  liberal  profession  sweating  along,  with  a 
weighty  and  slightly  odorous  savage  on  his  back,  the  least 
he  could  have  done  at  the  next  committee  meeting  would 
have  been  to  propose  me  a  medal  and  badge.  Perhaps  it  is 
not  too  late  yet.  I  fancy,  however,  as  most  of  these  bodies 
place  rather  more  stress  on  words  than  acts,  that  the  confes- 
sion of  having  been  betrayed  into  verbal  impatience  may 
go  against  me.  At  all  events,  I  had  my  work  that  after- 
noon. I  went  on  as  far  as  I  could  before  dark,  though 
thoroughly  exhausted  and  nearly  choked,  and  at  last  backed 
my  patient  up  against  a  fallen  tree  for  the  night  My  first 
work  was  to  thoroughly  bathe  myself  in  a  very  cold  stream, 
which  ran  close  by,  and  doubtless  debouched  into  the  river 
I  was  making  for.  I  felt  rather  more  refreshed  after  that, 
and  set  about  lighting  a  fire — a  very  simple  matter,  as  the 
wood  was  dry  and  plentiful.  I  was,  however,  too  tired  to 
cook  any  supper,  and,  though  it  may  be  not  very  good 
dietetic  practice,  both  phvsician  and  patient  supped  heartily 
on  whisky,  salt  pork,  and  "  damper,"  which  supper  exhausted 
our  stock  of  comestibles ;  for  I  had  been  too  much  occupied 
by  my  humane  duties  all  day  to  hunt.  We  then  lay  down 
and  slept  soundly  until  daybreak. 

By  dawn,  profiting  by  my  experiences  of  the  preceding  day, 
I  determined  to  avoid  the  heat  of  the  sun,  and  make  an  early 
start,  sore  as  my  bones  were.  As  we  had  finished  our  pro- 
visions, our  only  breakfast  promised  to  be  a  little  whisky 
and  water ;  but  just  as  we  were  mixing  the  last  of  our  grog 

O    2 


m 

:  -,  :'  i 
\       f 


.( 


212 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


I  heard  a  drumming  of  grouse  in  the  bush.  The  North- 
western grouse  all  "  tree,"  and  accordingly  I  had  no  trouble 
in  bringing  down  three  with  my  revolver,  commencing  with 
the  one  on  the  lower  branches,  and  then  going  upwards, 
so  that  the  fall  of  the  dead  ones  did  not  flush  the  others. 
This  is  a  common  method  of  pot-hunting.  Two  of  these 
skinned  (to  save  the  trouble  of  plucking)  and  roasted  by  the 
fire,  afforded  a  good  breakfast.  The  remaining  one  was 
reserved  for  supper.  I  then  started  on  my  weary  trudge, 
though  in  better  humour  than  I  did  the  day  before.  I  was 
now  becoming  in  a  manner  accustomed  to  my  burden,  and 
was  getting  into  such  a  doggedly  obdurate  state,  that  I 
determined,  come  whatever  might,  to  get  through  my  work 
— if  not  that  day,  on  the  following. 

Since  leaving  the  bend  of  the  river  where  the  accident 
had  occurred,  I  had  made  as  nearly  as  I  could  a  straight 
course;  and  though  it  is  difficult  to  calculate  distances  in 
these  forests,  1  did  not  yet  think  that  I  was  at  all  near  to 
where  we  had  left  the  canoe.  We  had  not,  however,  gone 
more  than  a  couple  of  hours  before  I  heard  the  murmur 
of  running  water,  and  saw  an  open  light  space  in  the  dark 
forest  ahead  of  us.  Could  that  be  the  river  again  ?  The  boy 
insisted  that  it  was,  and  as  we  approached  the  banks  there 
was  no  mistaking  the  locality.  There  was  no  other  big  river 
anywhere  in  this  vicinity ;  but  the  river  was  here  navigable, 
so  that  we  must  have  struck  it  lower  down.  Almost  simul- 
taneously the  boy  and  I  detected  footprints  in  the  damp 
soil — those  of  a  hobnail  boot  and  a  bare  foot — and  with  a 
joyous  cheer  I  made  for  the  place  where  they  emerged  from 
the  river.  We  could  scarcely  believe  our  eyes  when  we 
detected  that  they  were  oui  own  footsteps  of  a  few  days 
back,  and  we  had  by  the  merest  chance  come  upon  the 


AMONG   THE    NORTH-AMERICAN    INDIANS. 


213 


river  not  a  hundred  yards  from  where  we  had  left  it !  Our 
canoe  was  hidden  in  the  bushes  all  safely  out  of  the  heat  of 
the  sun.  In  a  few  minutes  it  was  equipped,  launched,  and 
floating  down  the  river,  I  steering  while  the  youth  kept  a 
look-out  ahead. 

At  midday  we  halted  to  eat  the  grouse,  and  feeling  now 
rather  hungry,  I  set  off  in  search  of  a  deer,  and  wa  suc- 
cessful in  killing  a  fine  buck,  with  the  choice  pieces  of  which 
we  refreshed  ourselves.  The  river  navigation  was  rather 
troublesome,  and  every  now  and  again  I  had  to  get  out  and 
ease  the  canoe  off  the  spits  where  I  had  run  it  on  to  ;  but 
on  the  whole  we  met  with  no  accident,  and  in  the  course 
of  a  couple  of  hours  arrived  at  the  sea.  Here  we  found 
some  cousins  of  my  patient  encamped,  and  they  ("for  a 
consideration,"  you  may  be  sure,  for  it  was  "nothing  for 
nothing  "  among  these  people)  helped  me  up  the  coast  for  a 
few  miles  to  the  village  where  the  boy's  father  lived.  Then 
I  got  him  off  my  hands,  and  after  hints  about  "  buying  his 
leg  "  from  the  avaricious  parents,  I  left,  thoroughly  sick  of 
the  whole  job  and  the  ingratitude  of  all  concerned.  How- 
ever, happening  to  visit  the  village  some  weeks  after,  I 
found  my  patient  running  about  quite  well — having,  aided 
by  a  good  constitution  and  wondrous  good  luck,  perfectly  re- 
covered, without  any  other  treatment  than  wha'-  he  had  got 
from  me.  In  fact,  the  bark  bandages  were  never  removed 
until  he  could  walk.  I  found  that  my  fame  had  in  the 
meantime  grown  great  in  the  land,  and  that  bandages  of 
bark  had  the  reputation  of  being  the  newest  "  white  man's 
medicine,"  and  were  being  adopted  for  all  the  ills  which  flesh 
is  heir  to,  from  an  inflammation  of  the  lungs  to  a  gunshot 
wound.  Thereafter,  if  anybody  find  them  in  vogue  among 
the  Indians,  I  beg  that    he  will  not   run  away  with   the 


j. 


i  •;)• 


*  ;  Si 


1:1 


214 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


notion  that  it  is  an  aboriginal  method  of  cure.  I  am  "  the 
sole  and  only  inventor."  I  have  said  that  I  found  myself  a 
small  hero  on  account  of  my  cure.  So  I  did.  Still,  the 
applause  which  greeted  me  was  not  of  a  sufficiently  enthu- 
siastic description  to  tempt  me  to  renew  my  aboriginal 
medical  or  surgical  practice.  On  the  whole,  I  begin  to 
agree  with  my  profane  friend  the  trader,  who,  in  the  midst 
of  his  tirade  of  oaths,  consequent  on  my  first  unfortunate 
escapade,  let  drop  this  aphorism — "  Humanity  !  Tell  ye 
what,  cap'n;  if  anybody's  a  goin'  to  die,  better  them  nor 
you;  a  sight  better — a  blessed  sight  better!"  This  view 
may  not  be  unmixedly  humane,  but,  nevertheless,  I  scarcely 
think  that  any  reader  of  the  foregoing  pages  will  consider 
that  my  experience  of  medical  practice  among  the  North 
American  Indians  has  been  of  so  agreeable  a  nature  as  to 
incline  me  to  adopt  views  over-philanthropic. 


i 


A  ZIGZAG  JOURNEY   THROUGH   MEXICO. 

By  Captain  Mayne  Reid. 


% 


AN     OLD     ACQUAINTANCE. 

I  WAS  awakened  from  my  slumber  by  the  clanking  of  a 
heavy  chain.  Then  came  a  plunge,  succeeded  by  a  hoarse, 
harsh  rasping.  After  this  an  interval  of  silence ;  and  I 
could  feel  that  the  ship  lay  motionless  on  the  water.  The 
R.M.  steamer  So/enf  had  dropped  her  anchor. 

Hastening  upon  deck,  I  beheld  a  dark  grey  wall  rising 
up  from  the  surface  of  the  sea.  Its  oblique  fa9ade  and 
loopholed  parapet  proclaimed  it  a  fortress.  My  eye  was 
carried  up  a  tall  tower  to  a  flagstaff  on  its  top,  from  which 
floated  a  tricolour  of  red,  white,  and  green,  disposed  in 
stripes  running  parallel  to  the  staff.  I  recognised  the  flag 
of  the  *' eagle  and  nopal" — the  banner  of  the  Mexican 
Republic ;  and  knew  that  the  fortress  over  which  it  waved 
was  the  famed  castle  of  San  Juan  de  Ulua. 

Looking  landward,  I  saw  a  city  standing  so  close  to  the 
water's  edge  as  to  appear  sea-washed  ;  compact  as  a  picture 
in  its  frame ;  the  houses  of  Moorish  aspect,  flat-roofed, 
horizontally-terraced,  with  here  and  there  the  fronds  of  a 
palm-tree  appearing  over  their  parapets ;  th^  horizontal  line 


2l6 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


at  frequent  intervals  interrupted  by  towers,  domes,  and 
cupolas  ;  some  of  these  glistening  under  a  tesselated  cover- 
ing of  parti-coloured  Spanish  tiles.  > 

Looking  further  shoreward,  the  eye  roamed  over  an  ex- 
tensive tract  of  silver-grey  sand,  rising  in  downs,  or  dimes, 
and  enclosing  a  semicircular  plain,  on  which  the  city  stood, 
scarcely  a  spot  of  verdure  mottling  its  dreary  monotony,  till, 
in  the  far  distance  beyond,  the  gaze  rested  upon  a  purple 
expanse,  separated  by  an  irregular  waving  line  from  the 
azure  of  the  sky — mountains,  one  rising  thousands  of  feet 
above  its  fellows,  cone-shaped,  carrying  the  eternal  snow ! 

With  the  town  displaying  its  Hispano-Moriscan  archi- 
tecture before  my  eyes,  I  might  have  fancied  myself  looking 
upon  a  seaport  in  the  south  of  Spain,  or  on  the  coast  of 
Morocco,  the  mountains  being  the  Sierra  Morena,  or  a 
distant  chain  of  the  Atlas  ;  while  the  vultures  perched  upon 
the  parapets  of  the  houses,  and  playing  like  swallows  around 
the  cupolas,  would  not  have  dispelled  the  fancy.  But  the 
flag  reminded  me  of  where  I  was.  I  knew  the  town  itself, 
and  had  seen  it  before.  For  the  second  time  in  my  life  I 
was  looking  upon  the  ''City  of  the  True  Cross''  {La  villa 
rica  de  Vera  Cruz) ;  and  the  mountains  beyond  were  a  chain 
of  the  Mexican  Andes — the  one  with  the  snow-clad  cone 
being  the  w/<rrt!«  of  Orizava. 

A  steamer's  boat  landed  me  on  the  muello — a  handsome 
jetty  that  projects  for  some  distance  into  the  sea,  towards 
San  Juan.  It  is  the  favourite  promenade  of  the  Vera- 
cruzanos  :  and  a  crowd  of  both  sexes  had  collected  upon  it 
to  witness  the  landings  from  the  steamer;  some  to  make 
new  acquaintances,  others  to  welcome  home  friends  who 
had  been  afar. 

As  I  set  foot  upon  the  top  of  the  jetty-stairs,  a  gentle- 


f 
I 


•i  it 


I 


^^ii 


1  >i 


A   ZIGZAG   JOURNEY   THROUGH    MEXICO. 


319 


man  in  snow-white  raiment,  with  a  red  crape  scarf  round  his 
waist  and  a  jip'ijapa  hat  upon  his  head,  stepped  forward, 
grasped  me  by  the  hand,  and  introduced  me  to  a  dark-eyed 

senorita — his  daughter.     This  was  Don  Hilario  C ,  an 

old  acquaintance,  whom  I  had  not  seen  since  the  charming 
creature  by  his  side  came  out  of  her  cradle. 

In  five  minutes  after,  we  were  seated  in  a  handsome 
carriage,  drawn  by  a  pair  of  fast-trotting /m^z/^i-,  and  driven 
by  a  brown-skinned  coachman  in  a  blue  haircloth  jacket, 
with  broad-brimmed  black  glaze  hat  shading  his  sharp  Arab- 
like features  from  the  sun.  In  ten  more,  I  had  entered 
Don  Hilario's  house ;  and,  on  crossing  the  threshold  was 
told  it  was  not  his,  but  mhie^  as  also  everything  it  contained. 

How  unlike  my  landing  on  this  same  coast  just  twenty 
years  before  I  Then,  instead  of  quietly  climbing  up  the 
stairs  of  the  Mole,  and  being  welcomed  with  open  arms  and 
friendly  grasp,  I  debarked  from  a  surf-boat  under  the  lee  of 
the  Isle  Sacrificios ;  leaped  waist-deep  into  the  water,  and 
waded  ashore,  followed  by  a  hundred  men  in  uniform,  with 
loaded  rifle  in  one  hand,  and  cartouche-box  held  high  in  the 
other,  with  thousands  of  like  waders  on  the  right  and  left, 
all  plunging  madly  forward,  till  we  stood  high  and  dry,  but 
dripping,  upon  the  beach ;  hostile  artillery  playing  upon  us 
from  the  fortress  of  San  Juan  and  the  Fort  of  Santiago, 
their  shot  and  shells  just  falling  short  of  us.  Then,  further 
wading,  not  through  water,  but  a  sea  of  sand,  equally 
obstructive  and  fatiguing,  until  we  had  completed  the  in- 
vestment, and  the  City  of  the  True  Cross  lay  within  the 
concavity  of  a  thin  semicircle  of  sky-blue  uniforms,  in  a 
month  after  to  close  upon  and  clutch  it.  A  month  among 
these  terrible  medanos^  with  the  soft  sand  constantly  drifting 
in  our  faces,  and  mingling  with  our  food — a  month  that 


11" 


1  irrvji' 


: 


220 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


i 


seemed  a  year ;  and  then  the  tricolour  on  San  Juan  gave 
place  to  the  flag  of  the  stars  and  stripes,  and  we  marched 
into  the  old  town,  built  by  the  Marquis  of  Monterey,  nearly 
three  centuries  before,  and  became  for  the  time  its  masters. 
How  different,  too,  my  purpose  in  then  seeking  Mexico, 
from  that  which  now  attracted  me  to  her  shores  !  Then  I 
came  as  an  enemy,  sword  in  hand,  lured  by  a  love  of  glory, 
and  the  gratification  of  that  warlike  impulse  of  youth,  which 
in  maturer  years  we  may,  perchance,  see  cause  to  regret. 
Now,  pen  in  hand,  was  I  setting  foot  upon  the  soil  of 
Anahuac,  full  of  friendly  feeling  towards  its  people ;  deter- 
mined on  a  tranquil  s^^^udy  and  faithful  delineation  of  its 
scenery,  costumes,  and  customs.  As  a  soldier,  even  in  the 
intervals  of  strife,  with  thoughts  otherwise  directed,  I  had 
looked  upon  these  things  without  giving  them  the  slightest 
attention.  Nevertheless,  I  had  brought  away  the  impression 
that  every  scene  in  New  Spain  is  a  picture  worthy  of  being 
painted ;  every  costume  a  study  for  the  artist ;  every  custom 
of  striking  interest,  at  least  to  the  contemplation  of  a 
stranger.  With  such  remembrances  of  Mexico,  no  wonder 
I  longed  to  revist  it. 

My  longing  was,  at  length,  to  be  gratified ;  and  as  I  sat 
on  the  roof  of  Don  Hilario's  house,  smoking  best  havanas, 
and  sipping  sweet  Canary  wine,  my  eyes  were  not  bent  upon 
the  blue  waves  of  the  sea  that  had  borne  me  thither,  but  ever 
turning  towards  the  snow-capped  summit  of  Orizava,  and  the 
black  basaltic  crater  of  Perote,  on  both  of  whose  tops  I 
mtended  ere  long  to  stand. 

But  not  until  I  had  explored  the  countiy  lying  between 
• — the  tierra  caliente,  with  its  truly  tropical  vegetation,  as  also 
the  piedmont^  or  foothills,  of  the  gitat  Cordillera,  where  the 
orchis  entwines  itself  around    the  oak,   and  the    banana 


k  ZIGZAG  JOURNEY   THROUGH   MEXICO. 


221 


grows  side  by  side  with  the  rose-bush,  the  peach,  and  the 
apple-tree. 

Don  Hilario  had  placed  his  house,  with  all  that  it  con- 
tained, at  my  disposal.  "  A  servicio  de  V.,  seiior^^  were  the 
identical  words  in  which  the  proffer  was  made.  As  I  had 
been  in  Mexico  before,  I  knew  the  meaning  of  the  phrase, 
and  its  worth  ;  but  I  also  knew  that  in  his  case  the  offer  was 
worth  the  words,  and  that  everything  he  possessed — of 
course,  excepting  his  beautiful  daughter — was  at  my  disposal. 
It  was  the  recompense  of  a  service  I  had  done  him  in  the 
old  war-time  \  in  short,  the  saving  of  his  life. 

But  with  all  his  pressing  hospitality,  he  could  not  retain 
me  in  Vera  Cruz  beyond  the  limits  of  a  week.  Each  morn- 
ing that  I  mounted  up  to  the  azotea  of  his  house,  the  snowy 
cone  of  Citlapetl  (Mountain  of  the  Star),  rose-tinted  with  the 
rising  sun,  Hke  a  star  seemed  to  beacon  me  on  ;  and  before 
a  week  had  elapsed  I  was  in  the  saddle,  having  bidden  Don 
Hilaria  and  his  daughter  "  adios'^ 


\% 


x\ 


'    5. 


A  GLANCE  AT  THE  "  CITY  OF  THE  TRUE  CROSS  "  BEFORE 

LEAVING  IT. 


Vera  Cruz  may  be  regarded  as  one  of  th^  smaller  cities, 
its  population  not  exceeding  20,000.  It  is,  nevertheless,  a 
city  in  the  true  sense  of  the  term,  showing  a  fair  share  of 
civic  grandeur  in  its  private  dwellings,  as  well  as  public 
buildings.  Among  these  the  numerous  churches  are  con- 
spicuous, most  of  them  in  the  Italian  architectural  style  of  the 
seventeenth  century,  with  low  towers  and  tall  cupolas,  the 
latter  covered  with  parti-coloured  japanned  tiles.  The 
private  houses  are  of  the  Hispano-Moriscan  style,  not  only  in 
outward  aspect,  but  also  in  tlieir  interior  arrangement.     The 


^\\ 


S^aftti'ftftrK*  n^r  ni.'*¥ii 


-' 


222 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


walls  are  massive ;  in  height  some  of  them  reaching  a  third 
storey,  though  the  greater  number  have  only  two.  The 
windows  are  usually  without  glass,  protected  by  ircn  bars 
set  vertically — the  re/a — and  often  with  projecting  balconies. 
Nearly  all  have  a  quadrangular  courtyard  in  the  centre- 
around  which  are  the  different  apartments,  their  doors 
opening  upon  a  covered  piazza,  which  is  carried  partially, 
or  wholly,  around  the  sides.  The  quadrangular  court  is  the 
pa^i'o,  and  is  reached  from  the  street  by  a  wide  doorway 
capable  of  admitting  a  carriage,  along  an  arched  or  covered 
passage  called  the  saguan. 

The  piazza  is  the  favourite  lounging-place  of  the  family ; 
and  is  capable  of  being  screened  from  intruding  eyes,  «.  r  tl 
rays  of  the  sun,  by  Venetian  lattice-work,  or  by  curtains 
of  Chinese  cloth,  or  matting,  that  run  upon  rollers. 

On  one  side  a  stone  stairway — escalera — is  carried  up  to 
the  second  storey,  where,  in  houses  of  the  better  class,  the 
piazza  is  repeated.  The  stairway  continued  leads  on  to  the 
top  of  the  house,  called  the  azoiea — a  flat  roof  of  flagging 
tiles,  or  painted  brickwork,  surrounded  by  a  slight  parapet, 
and  sometimes  surmounted  by  a  mirador  (belvedere).  The 
azotea  is  also  a  favourite  loitering-place ;  but  only  in  the 
cool  of  the  morning  or  late  in  the  afternoon,  when  the  sun 
is  down  near  the  horizon,  and  his  rays  have  lost  a  portion 
of  their  tropical  strength.  Flowers  in  pots,  even  trees,  set 
over  the  azotea^  add  greatly  to  its  attractions.  Palm-trees 
are  thus  occasionally  placed;  and  their  fronds  curving 
gracefully  over  the  parapet  lend  a  truly  Southern  aspect  to 
the  dwelling.  The  courtyard  below  is  also  used  as  a 
conservatory,  where  rare  plants  are  kept  in  pots,  or  large 
vases.  In  passing  along  the  street,  and  looking  in  through 
the  shaded  saguan,  you  may  often  see  the  female  servants, 


% 


A  ZIGZAG   JOURNEY   THROUGH    MEXICO. 


223 


or  even  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  fair  senoritas  of  the  family 
flitting  among  these  flowers. 

In  cities  where  a  head  of  water  can  be  obtained  there  is 
usually  a  fountain  in  the  patlo^  either  of  marble  or  ornamental 
masonwork,  with  a  soarkling  jet  that  flings  its  spray  over  the 
foliage  and  flowers.  In  Vera  Cruz,  however,  built  upon  a 
bed  of  sea-sand,  running  water  is  not  to  be  had.  Even  that 
required  for  domestic  purposes  has  to  be  caught  in  large 
cisterns,  of  which  there  is  one,  usually  of  stone,  attached  to 
nearly  every  house.  The  chief  supply,  however,  is  obtained 
from  an  aqueduct  leading  from  the  Jamapa  river,  wliich 
furnishes  water  of  only  a  very  indiff"erent  quality. 

In  the  domestic  economy  of  most  Mexican  towns  the 
precious  fluid  plays  an  important  part,  and  the  aguador  who 
furnishes  it  is,  in  consequence,  a  very  important  pei'sonage. 
This  arises  from  the  fact  that  there  is  no  system  of  supply  by 
means  of  pipes ;  therefore  the  water-carrier  has  to  make  a 
daily  visit  to  each  house,  as  punctually  as  the  milkman  or 
the  baker.  Should  he  fail  in  one  of  his  periodical  calls,  the 
culinary  operations  get  sadly  out  of  gear,  or  even  suspended. 
Knowing  his  power  he  is  sometimes  tyrannical,  but  always 
shows  himself  master  of  the  situation.  He  is  generally, 
however,  a  very  civil  sort  of  fellow ;  and  as,  in  emptying 
his  jars,  he  must  needs  spend  some  time  in  the  company 
of  the  servants,  and  gossip  a  good  deal  with  them,  he  is 
regarded  as  a  great  news-bearer,  and  the  depositary  of  some 
valuable  family  secrets.  The  young  ladies  of  the  house 
often  condescend  to  hold  converse  with  him ;  and,  if 
scandal  speak  the  truth,  he  not  unfrequently  becomes  the 
bearer  of  a  billet-doux.  In  short,  he  is  one  of  the  "  in- 
stitutions "  of  a  Mexican  city,  and  therefore  a  character  to 
be  described.     His  appearance  is  of  itself  a  picture.     He  is 


\m 


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224 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


:i!i 


dressed  in  a  cotton  shirt,  usually  with  the  sleeves  rolled  up, 
wide  trousers  {calzoneros)  of  leather  hanging  loose  upon  his 
limbs,  and  cotton  drawers  {calzoncillos)  underneath,  though 
the  bottoms  of  both  are  generally  tucked  up,  leaving  the 
legs  bare.  His  head-dress  is  a  kind  of  casque,  or  helmet, 
of  stout  leather,  with  a  projecting  peak  in  front.  He  has, 
besides,  an  apron  of  tanned  sheepskin  in  front,  and  behind 
a  sort  of  pad  of  the  same  material,  to  defend  his  spine 
against  the  chafing  of  the  water-jar.  Of  these  he  carries 
two.  They  are  of  different  sizes,  somewhat  urn-shaped, 
and  of  red  pott  rv,  unglazed,  porous,  and  therefore  suitable 
for  keeping  the  \  .  cool.  The  larger  one  rests  upon  his 
spine  above  the  hips,  suspended  by  a  leather  strap,  which 
passes  over  his  forehead,  so  that  the  weight  is  supported 
upon  his  temples.  The  smaller  jar  hangs  down  in  front, 
and  is  also  suspended  by  a  strap,  which  crosses  the  back 
part  of  the  head  or  the  nape  of  the  neck.  The  two  vessels 
thus  balance  one  another,  causing  the  weight  to  press 
directly  over  the  centre  of  gravity  of  the  body.  Thus 
equipped,  the  aguador  may  be  seen  at  all  hours  passing 
along  the  streets,  and  calling  out  in  shrill  monotone,  "  Agiia 
fresca,  aguafria  f^'  (fresh,  cool  water). 

The  water-carrier  seen  in  Vera  Cruz  is,  however,  a  very 
different  sort  of  personage.  He  illustrates  the  indolent 
habits  of  the  tropical  tief'ra  caliejiie,  by  employing  a  donkey 
or  mule  to  carry  his  water  for  him,  which  the  animal  does 
by  bearing  four  small  barrels^,  set  in  a  framework  upon  its 
pack-saddle. 

Small  though  it  be,  the  city  of  Vera  Cruz  contains  much 
that  should  interest  a  traveller.  If  an  Englishman,  he  will 
be  struck  with  its  foreign  appearance,  as  also  with  its 
resemblance  to  the  cities  of    Southern  Europe — especially 


A  ZIGZAG  JOURNEY   THROUGH    MEXICO. 


225 


Spain.  He  will  observe  many  customs  that  can  be  traced 
directly  to  the  Moors,  and  such  as  still  linger  in  Andalusia. 
In  the  Mexican  city,  however,  he  will  see  a  greater  variety 
of  complexions  :  for  in  addition  to  the  Iberian,  two  other 
distinct  races  have  contributed  to  form  its  mixed,  motley 
population.  The  white  or  olive-white  Creole  and  Spaniard  ; 
the  brown  mestizo^  or  mixed  blood  of  Spanish  and  Indian  ; 
the  darker  brown  Indian  himself;  the  bistre  brown  melange, 
between  Indian  and  negro,  known  as  the  za??ibo;  the  negro 
pur  sang;  his,  or  rather  her,  crosses  with  the  white  man — 
mulattoes  and  quadroons — are  all  encountered  in  the  streets 
of  Vera  Cruz.  It  is  not  the  same  with  most  other  Mexican 
cities.  Only  in  the  eastern  sea-coast  towns — Matamoras, 
Tampico,  Campeachy,  Tabasco,  and  Vera  Cruz — or  in  the 
adjacent  low-lying  hot  lands,  does  the  negro  appear  as  a 
notable  feature  of  the  population. 

The  costumes,  and  many  of  the  customs,  of  Vera  Cruz 
strike  the  traveller  as  picturesque  and  peculiar.  Most  of 
them  we  shall  meet  further  on,  in  other  towns  and  villages 
of  the  tierra  caliente,  or  in  those  of  the  table-lands,  where 
they  may  be  more  fully  described.  At  first  landing,  how- 
ever, the  stranger  cannot  help  being  impressed  with  the 
quaint  oddness  of  much  that  here  meets  him,  and  which  he 
may  not  have  seen  before,  or  perhaps  only  in  pictures.  The 
church,  represented  by  curas  lounging  about  in  Don  Basilio 
hats  and  long  black  robes  reaching  to  their  ankles ;  monks 
with  shaven  crown,  cowl,  and  scapulary;  soldiers  in  straw 
hats  and  uniforms  of  cheap,  coarse  linen  ;  negroes,  clothed 
in  white  cotton,  jabbering  at  every  corner,  and  violently 
gesticulating;  the  Indians,  more  silent,  seated  beside  the 
wares  they  have  brought  into  the  market ;  fruits  of  twenty 
different  kinds ;  wild  birds  in  their  cages ;  fireflies  {cocuyos) 


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226 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


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for  the  adornment  of  the  hair ;  and  perhaps  an  armadillo,  or 
agouti — all  will  be  new  to  him.  And  then  there  is  the 
Creole  citizen,  of  sallow  complexion,  slight  and  slender- 
limbed,  dressed  in  half  European  costume,  with  short  round 
jacket  and  pantaloons,  fitting  tight  over  the  hips ;  the 
countryman,  in  his  splendid  ranchero  dress,  with  bright- 
coloured  cloak,  serape  or  manga^  wide  velveteen  trousers, 
botas^  and  grand  spurs;  XhQ  poblana,  in  sleeveless  chemise  of 
snow-white  linen,  petticoat  with  lace  points,  nude  ankles, 
find  small  well-shaped  feet,  encased  in  satin  sHppers  3  and 
last,  but  perhaps  most  imposing  of  all,  the  grand  senora  or 
seiicrita,  in  rich  silk,  with  high  shell  comb  upon  her  head, 
and  a  black  mantilla  falling  over  her  fair  shoulders,  going  to 
or  returning  from  church,  moving  along  with  that  majestic 
step  said  to  be  peculiar  to  the  dames  of  Andalusia. 

At  certain  seasons  of  the  year  the  streets  of  Vera  Cruz 
present  an  animated  spectacle.  This  is  in  the  winter 
months,  when  foreign  ships  are  lading  in  port,  and  the 
arrieros  with  their  long  mule  trains  come  down  to  the  coast 
to  bring  the  produce  to  be  exported,  and  to  take  bac]'.  the 
import  goods.  In  the  hot  summer  months,  however,  when 
the  dreaded  vomito  becomes  dangerous,  and  sometimes 
desolates  this  devoted  city,  active  life  seems  for  a  time 
suspended,  and  the  streets  are  left  to  straying  dogs,  who, 
quarrelling  with  the  vultures,  contest  with  them  possession 
of  the  scraps  cast  out.  Then  Vera  Cruz  becomes  what  it 
has  often  been  called —  Una  ciudad  de  ios  muertos  (a  city  of 
the  dead). 

EVANGELISTAS,  SCAVENGERS,  AND  SERENOS. 

The  European  traveller,  strolling  through  the  streets  of  a 
Mexican  city,  will  see,,  under  the  shade  of  some  portico  or 


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AN   BVAN(ft:LISTA. 


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A   ZIGZAG   JOURNEY   THROUGH    MEXICO. 


229 


projecting  wall,  an  old  gentleman  of  strikingly  peculiar 
appearance.  He  is  habited  in  a  suit  of  rusty  black,  with  a 
pair  of  horn  spectacles  resting  across  the  ridge  of  his  nose. 
Gleaming  behind  the  glass  lenses,  and  under  thick  bushy 
brows,  are  two  keen  sparkling  eyes  that  gaze  ui)on  the 
passers-by  with  an  inquiring  look,  as  if  their  owner  solicited 
a  purchase  of  his  services.  What  these  are  may  be  deduced 
from  his  attitude  and  the  apparatus  with  which  he  is 
furnished.  He  is  seated  upon  a  low  stool,  or  it  may  be  a 
doorstep,  with  a  piece  of  board  laid  across  his  knees.  Upon 
this  rests  a  sheet  or  two  of  writing-paper ;  while  the  classical 
inkhorn,  suspended  from  a  button  on  his  breast,  with  a  pen 
stuck  behind  his  ear,  or  perhaps  held  between  his  fingers, 
show  that  he  is  ready  to  commence  writing  at  a  moment's 
notice.  All  this,  with  his  knowing,  learned  glance  and 
threadbare  habiliments,  give  him  the  typical  characteristic  air 
of  the  old  Spanish  notary,  of  which  he  reminds  you.  He  is 
the  evangelista^  o»*  public  scribe.  He  has,  however,  no  con- 
nection with  the  law;  and  notwithstanding  the  sacred 
character  of  his  professional  tide,  he  has  nothing  to  do  with 
religion  ;  indeed,  often  rather  the  opposite.  He  is  simply  a 
professional  penman ;  and,  in  a  country  where  education  is 
so  little  attended  to,  his  services  are  in  frequent  requisition. 
His  clients  are  mostly  of  the  lower  class — domestic  ser- 
vants, small  shopkeepers,  artisans,  labourers,  lepe7'os^  and 
very  often  Indians,  who  are  all  ignorant  of  the  art  of  writing. 
By  these  he  is  employed  to  write  letters  of  business ;  con- 
gratulatory epistles  to  friends  who  have  had  a  stroke  of  good 
fortune,  or  condolence  when  the  reverse  ;  petitions  asking  a 
favour ;  notes  requesting  payment  of  an  account,  or  threats 
in  the  event  of  its  being  refused ;  invitations  to  festivals  or 
fandangoes  ;  or  solicitations  to  become  compadre  or  comadre 


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230 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


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— that  is,  godfather  or  godmother  at  a  christening — an 
important  matter  in  Mexico.  Love,  however,  is  the  staple 
commodity  in  which  he  deals,  and  the  principal  source  of 
his  support.  Not  that  it  is  his  trade  to  make  it — only  to 
give  it  expression  on  paper.  His  business  is  to  compose 
billets-doux  for  lovers  whose  education  does  not  enable  them 
to  do  the  epistolary  part  themselves.  Often  a  pretty  belle 
of  the  people — a  poblana — may  be  seen  bending  beside  him 
with  her  lips  close  to  his  ear,  earnestly  dictating  the  impulse 
of  her  passion  in  a  low  tone  and  terms  of  tender  endear- 
ment ;  or,  it  may  be,  in  dire  threats  that  spring  from  a 
sentiment  of  jealousy.  With  her  rebozo  tapado^  although  it 
be  in  broad  daylight,  she  is  not  so  easily  recognised ;  for 
only  her  dark  flashing  eye  may  be  visible  through  the  slight 
opening  in  the  scarf  of  bluish-grey.  At  other  times  it  is  a 
lover  of  the  masculine  gender  who  seeks  the  assistance  of 
the  evangelista — some  strapping  fellow  with  a  serapt  around 
his  shoulders,  and  broad-brimmed  hal  shading  his  swarthy 
face  as  he  whisperingly  pronounces  the  words  he  wishes 
conveyed  to  his  sweetheart. 

Thus  placed  between  the  two  parties,  and  made  the 
depositary  of  the  secrets  of  both,  the  evangelista  possesses 
a  rare  power ;  and  he  is  suspected  of  sometimes  using  it  for 
improper  purposes.  There  are  some  who  do  not  hesitate  to 
apply  to  him  the  ugly  epithet  oi  alcahuete^  or  *'  go-between." 

The  calling  of  the  evangelista  is  lucrative  in  its  way, 
his  services  being  neither  gratuitous  nor  ill-paid.  Some  of 
these  professional  scribes  derive  a  considerable  income 
from  their  versatile  talents.  Nor  are  their  charges  in  all  cases 
the  same.  It  depends  on  the  length  of  the  letter,  as  also  on 
the  style  in  which  the  script  is  executed  ;  whether  it  is  to  be 
plain  or  bordered,  and  whether  it  is  to  have  .u  vices.      The 


A   ZIGZAG  JOURNEY  THROUGH   MEXICO. 


231 


evangelista  is  usually  a  master  in  the  chirographic  art,  with 
some  skill  at  limning;  and  can  depict  a  heart  in  water-colours 
pierced  by  an  arrow;  or  two  hearts  impaled  on  the  same 
shaft,  with  Cupid  close  by  holding  the  bow  that  has  sent 
it ;  or  a  pair  of  turtle-doves  amorously  billing  in  the  midst 
of  a  garland  of  flowers.  Or,  if  it  be  a  threatening  letter, 
it  will  have  for  its  emblem  a  hand  holding  a  stiletto,  and 
ready  to  strike.  All  these  things  cost  extra,  according  to 
the  elegance  of  the  design,  or  the  talent  required  for  their 
execution. 

Sometimes  the  evangelista  is  above  sitting  upon  a  door- 
step or  the  plinth  of  a  church  pillar,  with  a  mere  bit  of 
board  across  his  knees.  He  then  sets  up  a  regular  desk  or 
table,  with  a  comfortable  chair,  and  perhaps  an  extra  one 
for  his  customers.    . 

It  is  still,  however,  in  the  open  air,  sub  Jove^  or  under 
the  shadow  of  a  portal^  in  some  quiet  corner  of  the  street  or 
square,  where,  in  addition  to  letter-writing,  he  does  a  little 
retail  business  in  pens,  ink,  envelopes,  and  small  stationery  in 
general.  He  has  no  fear  of  the  police  interfering  with  him, 
and  telling  him  to  "  move  on ;"  he  knows  that  he  is  an 
institution  of  the  country,  and,  from  the  state  of  its  education 
a  necessity. 

The  traveller  turns  from  the  spectacle  of  this  quaint 
calling  to  one  less  pleasant  of  contemplation.  His  ear  is 
assailed  by  the  clanking  of  chains ;  and,  looking  around,  he 
sees  a  number  of  men  of  swarth  skin  and  savage  physiog- 
nomy, half-naked,  half-clad  in  filthy  rags,  carrying  brooms, 
shovels,  and  scrapers.  They  are  coupled  two-and-two,  and 
it  is  the  clank  of  their  iron  couplings  that  has  caused  him  to 
look  round. 

In  their  midst,  or  standing  beside  them,  are  two  or  three 


'  i' 


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m 


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Mi 

'  -  ■'  Pi 


232 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


ill 


It 


soldiers,  in  slouching  attitudes  and  slouchingly  attired,  but 
with  their  bayonets  fixed,  showing  that  they  have  these  sans- 
culoties  in  charge.  It  is  the  "chain-gang,"  composed  of 
prison  malefiictors,  temporarily  taken  from  their  cells  to  act 
as  scavengers  of  the  streets.  Many  of  them  are  known, 
noted  robbers,  and  not  a  few  red-handed  murderers.  It  is 
not  a  pleasant  spectacle,  though  it  may  be  a  profitable  one 
to  many  who  witness  it — in  the  way  of  warning.  Unques- 
tionably it  is  better  that  these  gaol-birds  should  be  thus 
utilised,  instead  of,  as  with  us,  uselessly  and  almost 
ludicrously  employed  in  picking  oakum. 

In  Vera  Cruz  the  sereflo,  or  night-watchman,  is  a  character 
sure  to  make  himself  known  and  heard — sometimes  to  the 
keeping  awake  those  who  would  fain  go  to  sleep.  He 
perambulates  the  pavement  at  all  hours  of  the  night,  making 
it  hideous  by  his  shrill  treble,  as  he  calls  out  the  time  al 
with  the  state  of  the  weather,  which  he  does  four  times  an 
hour,  Like  everybody  else  in  Mexico,  the  sereno  wears  a 
broad-brimmed  hat,  and  a  sort  of  loose  frock,  belted  around 
the  waist.  In  the  cooler  hours  of  the  night  he  is  swathed  in  a 
ponderous  caped  cloak,  reaching  down  to  his  heels.  In 
one  hand  he  carries  a  long  spear,  and  in  the  other  a  clumsy 
old-fashioned  lantern  ;  while  from  his  waistbelt  is  suspended 
the  equally  old-fashioned  watchman's  rattle — wherewith  to 
sound  an  alarm  in  case  of  fire,  a  discovery  of  thieves,  or  a 
difficulty  with  drunken  roysterers.  In  contemplating  the 
sereno,  one  is  reminded  of  London  in  bygone  years ;  when 
night-watchmen  performed  the  functions  now  entrusted  to 
the  police,  with  the  additional  duty  of  crying  out  the  hour 
and  the  condition  of  the  weather.  "  Twelve  o'clock  ;  a 
clear,  starry  night ;  all's  well !"  In  Vera  Cruz,  or  any  other 
Mexican  city,  you  will  still  hear  just  such  a  rigmarole  pro- 


SERENOS. 


;  T, 


:fl 

1 

i 

M 

;1 

umm 


i 


I; 


liiiiii 


!  i 


i!!  ! 


M 


A  ZIGZAG   JOURNEY  THROUGH    MEXICO. 


235 


claimed  in  the  Spanish  tongue  :  "Zdfj  doce  y  medio — tiempo 
serenof"  And  from  the  long-drawn  treble,  dwelling  double 
time  on  the  last  word,  the  Mexican  watchman  has  obtained 
his  odd  appellation. 

The  sereno  occasionally  takes  up  a  thief  or  captures 
a  burglar;  but  more  frequently  permits  both  to  follow 
their  vocation  free,  himself  preferring  to  enjoy  a  nap 
in  the  portico  of  some  church  or  convent,  with  his  lantern 
set  upon  the  step  beside  him ;  and  not  unfrequently  he 
awakes  to  find  it  gone,  and  also  his  rattle — carried  off  by 
the  young  "  swells  "  (Jovenes  dorados)  returning  from  the 
gamblinrj-room  or  ball. 


if  r 
m 


SENORAS,    POBLANAS,    AND   COCUYOS. 


It  is  in  the  evening  hour  that  the  calies  of  Vera  Cruz 
offer  the  most  agreeable  promenade.  Then  the  hot  tropic 
sun  has  disappeared  behind  the  crest  of  the  Cordilleras,  and 
the  cool  sea-breeze  circulates  through  the  streets.  The 
repulsive  "  chain-gang  "  has  been  taken  back  to  their  prison- 
cells,  while  their  fellow-scavengers,  the  vultures — also  of 
repulsive  aspect — have  forsaken  the  pavement  and  gone  to 
roost  on  the  cupolas  and  church-towers.  At  least  a  piir 
of  these  foul  birds  may  be  seen  perched  upon  every  cross 
— one  on  each  arm,  by  way  of  balance — fit  symbol  of  the 
crucified  malefactors. 

Down  in  the  street-doors,  and  up  in  the  window-bal- 
conies, or  higher  still  along  the  terraced  roofs  of  the  houses, 
may  be  observed  tableaux  less  repellant — many  of  them 
attractive.  There  you  may  see  the  grand  sefiora  of  true 
Andalusian  type,  dressed  in  silk,  and  flirting  her  fan,  whose 
every  motion  has  a  meaning.     She  stands  within  a  casement 


H 
'  i 


l1' 


236 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


iiiHi 


that  has  no  glass,  only  a  grille  of  iron  bars — the  reja  that 
projects  so  as  to  give  space  for  a  balcony ; — or  she  leans 
over  the  parapet  that  borders  the  azotea  above.  She  is  not 
unobserved.  There  is  a  caballero  in  the  street  below,  or 
perhaps  on  some  other  azotea^  watching  her  with  eager 
scrutinising  glance.  He  can  interpret  every  flirt  of  her  fan, 
and  read  his  fate  in  its  turnings  and  twitchings. 

Enter  the  streets  of  lesser  note,  that  run  between  dwell- 
ings of  a  more  unpretentious  style — the  homes  of  the  people 
— and  you  behold  a  similar  spectacle.  Here  it  is  the 
poblana — mestiza,mulatta,or  quadroon — who  is  the  cynosure, 
and  belle  reigning  supreme.  She  stands  in  the  open  window 
or  doorway  of  a  single-storey  house,  freely  chatting  with  a 
group  of  her  male  admirers,  and  taking  but  slight  trouble  to 
conceal  her  glowing  charms.  Neither  in  beauty,  nor  yet  in 
the  tastefulness  of  her  attire,  need  she  feel  humiliated  by 
comparison  with  the  more  aristocratic  senora  of  the  man- 
sion ;  while  in  point  of  picturesqueness  she  leaves  the  latter 
far  behind.  The  poblana  of  a  Mexican  city  is  the  representa- 
tive type  of  the  belle  of  the  people,  known  in  Cadiz,  Seville, 
and  Madrid  as  the  manola.  Their  costume,  however,  is 
somewhat  different ;  that  of  the  Mexican  beauty  having 
certain  features  that  are  altogether  indigenous  and  national. 
The  tight-fitting  Andalusian  bodice  is  occasionally,  though 
rarely,  seen.  Instead,  the  bust  is  covered  with  a  loose 
chemise  of  snow-white  lawn,  or  linen,  gathered  around  the 
neck,  and  elaborately  embroidered,  with  short  sleeves,  lace- 
fringed,  and  prettily  contrasting  with  the  olive-tinted 
epidermis  of  the  arms.  Around  the  waist  is  a  sash  or 
cincture  of  silk  crape,  of  Chinese  fabric,  which  ^  helps  to 
sustain  the  cnagtia,  or  petticoat  of  white  or  figured  muslin, 
with  a  skirt,  lace-bordered,  and  so  scant  as  to  show  under- 


A  ZIGZAG  JOURNEY  THROUGH   MEXICO. 


237 


neath  the  well-turned  ankle  and  mignon  foot,  with  the  tiniest 
satin  slipper  poised  upon  its  toe.  Above,  a  pair  of  dark 
brown  or  jet  black  eyes,  glancing  under  a  profusion  of 
purple-black  hair — slightly  crisped  if  a  quadroon's — adorned 
with  fresh  flowers  of  the  orange,  grenadine,  or  "cacalo- 
suchil "  {Plumerid)  \  often  still  further  ornamented  by  the 
sparkle  of  a  cocuyo^  the  grand  firefly  of  the  tropics,  whose 
sheen  of  diamonds,  emeralds,  and  flame  becomes  brighter 
and  brighter  as  the  twilight  darkens  down;  until,  in  the  deep 
obscurity  of  the  night,  its  coruscation  far  excels  that  of 
precious  stones — even  under  the  glare  of  gaslight. 

Of  all  phosphorescent  creatures  the  grand  firefly  of 
tropical  America  {Elater  nodiluciis)  is  certainly  the  most 
interesting.  It  is  not  a  fly,  as  its  English  appellation  would 
lead  one  to  believe,  but  a  beetle — a  scarabseus  with  wings. 
The  body  is  of  ovoid  shape,  of  glossy  brown  colour,  and  in 
bulk  equal  to  the  fore-joint  of  an  ordinary-sized  thumb. 
But  your  attention  is  at  once  attracted  to  its  eye-like  spots, 
as  large  as  swan-shot,  that  appear  like  globes  of  fire,  in  which 
green  and  gold  and  flam  ire  equally  commingled.  And 
when  the  insect  spreads  its  wings  in  flight,  so  that  you 
obtain  a  view  of  its  abdomen,  you  there  see  a  broad  disc  of 
phosphorescence,  almost  as  brilliant  as  a  jet  of  gas.  The 
common  firefly  of  more  northern  regions — in  th  United 
States  known  by  the  ill-fitting  appellation  of  "  lightning  bug" 
— is  but  a  farthing  dip  compared  with  this  splendid  luminary 
of  the  tropics. 

With  three  or  four  cocuyos  placed  und  an  inverted 
tumbler  you  may  read  the  smallest  type ;  and  even  one  held 
in  the  fingers,  close  to  the  surface  of  a  sheet  of  paper,  will 
enable  you  to  decipher  the  writing  upon  it  without  any 
difficulty.     I  have  myself  had  occasion  to  make  use  of  them 


HI 

'i  ^i  III 


2-^8 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


for  this  purpose  ;  and  more  than  once,  in  traversing  the 
tropical  forest  by  night,  have  availed  myself  of  this  living 
lamp  to  consult  the  dial  of  my  watch — just  as  one  might  use 
the  fire  of  a  cigar.  But  the  most  singular  use  to  which  they 
are  put  is  that  above  alluded  to — as  an  ornament  for  the 
hair,  and  at  times,  too,  the  skirt  of  the  dress.  It  is  usually 
the   belles  of  the  lower  orders  who  affect   this  species  of 

adornment,  though  I  have  also 
seen  cocuyos  gleaming  amid  the 
tresses  of  the  fine  lady. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  say 
that  it  is  the  living  insect  which  is 
pressed  into  this  service.  When 
dead,  the  dater  loses  its  phosphoric 
brightness,  as  the  dolphin  its  iride- 
scence. When  wanted  as  a  gem 
of  the  first  water,  it  must  not  only 
be  alive,  but  in  good  health ; 
and  to  secure  this,  the  insect  is 
carefully  kept  in  a  little  cane 
(age — which  may  be  regarded  as  its  casket — and  generally 
fed  by  the  fair  creatures  of  whose  trousseau  it  forms 
so  conspicuous  a  part.  Its  food  consists  of  the  juice 
of  the  sugar-cane — small  pieces  of  which,  freshly  peeled, 
are  from  time  to  time  placed  inside  its  cage.  When 
required  to  enact  the  role  of  a  jewel,  it  is  taken  out  of 
its  prison,  impaled  upon  a  long  pin,  and  set  on  the  plaits 
of  the  hair,  in  such  a  position  that  its  two  grand 
gleaming  lamps  may  be  fully  exposed  to  view.  On  first 
seeing  this  done,  I  deemed  it  the  quiiu  essence  of  cruelty, 
and  ventured  a  mild  remonstrance.  The  young  lady  who 
was  favouring  me  with  the  exhibition  made  light  of  my  soft- 


The  Cucuyo  {Pyrophoms 
noctiliicus). 


A   ZIGZAG  JOURNEY    THROUGH    MEXICO. 


239 


heartedness,  with  a  laugh  ;  which  would  have  confirmed  me 
in  my  opinion  of  her  cruelty  but  for  what  followed.  She 
plucked  the  cocuyo  from  her  head,  and  pointed  out  a  loop- 
like integument  underneath  the  thorax,  through  which  the 
pin  had  been  passed  ;  so  that  in  reality  it  was  not  impaled, 
as  I  had  supposed.  Furthermore,  she  informed  me  that  the 
creature  suffered  no  inconvenience  from  being  thus  transfixed, 
beyond  that  of  being  confined  when,  doubtless,  it  would 
rather  be  free.  Furnished  with  this  singular  loop,  or  link, 
one  cannot  help  fancying  that  the  insect  was  designed  for 
this  very  purpose. 

Unlike  the  common  fireflies,  the  Elater  nodilucus  is  not 
found  in  large  numbers.  In  no  place  have  I  seen  it  in 
swarms,  but  only  in  twos  and  threes ;  though  there  are 
certain  spots  in  the  tropical  forest  where  it  is  more  numerous. 
It  specially  resorts  to  the  plantations  of  sugar-cane,  the  juice  of 
which  is  its  principal  food.  It  also  finds  sustenance  in  other 
plants  and  flowers  yielding  sap  of  a  similar  nature.  Flying 
about  after  the  manner  of  other  night-beetles,  it  is  not  easily 
caught,  and  is  therefore  a  marketable  article — being  one  of 
the  commodities  brought  in  by  the  country-people,  and  sold 
to  the  senoritas  of  the  city. 


A   WALLED    CITY. 


It  was  early  in  January  when  I  left  Vera  Cruz— n\v 
destination  being  the  city  of  Mexico.  But  first  I  deter- 
mined to  see  something  of  the  country  lying  east.  Two 
grand  routes  conduct  from  Vera  Cruz  to  the  capital ;  the 
northern  running  through  Jalapa,  the  southern  by  Orizava. 
Neither  is  direct,  the  former  being  forced  far  to  the  north, 
and  the  latter  to  the  south,  by  the  great  mountain-group  of 


240 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


lilll! 


i 


which  the  volcano  of  Orizava  is  the  cuhninating  point,  and 
Perote  the  projection.  I  could  have  reached  the  town  of 
Orizava  by  rail — the  camino  de  hierro  being  then  completed 
so  far — or  Jalapa  by  stage-coach.  Or  I  could  have 'been 
transported  to  either  place  in  a  litera^  the  Mexican  sedan, 
borne  between  two  mules.  But  I  had  no  wish  to  avail  myself 
of  any  of  these  modes  of  travel.  My  purpose  was  not  speed, 
nor  yet  luxury.  On  the  contrary,  I  was  undertaking  an 
excursion  that  I  knew  to  be  fraught  with  fatigues  and  hard- 
ships, and  which  would  carry  me  along  paths  where  coach 
could  not  go,  nor  sedan  be  transported.  For  the  general 
direction  of  my  route,  I  intended  keeping  near  the  Jalapa 
road — departing  from  it  to  the  right  or  the  left,  at  certain 
points  where  the  adjacent  country  appeared  most  deserving 
of  exploration.  In  short,  I  designed  a  zigzag  journey 
through  the  interior  of  Mexico.  Travelling  thus  I  could 
behold  those  more  romantic  spots  and  scenes  for  which  the 
country  is  so  celebrated,  and  study  its  people  in  all  their 
primitive  picturesqueness,  unchanged  by  contact  with  the 
stranger.  For  the  same  reason,  I  resolved  as  much  as 
possible  to  shun  being  myself  taken  for  a  stranger.  I  could 
speak  the  language  of  the  people,  was  dark  enough  in 
complexion,  and  had  adopted  their  garb — the  full  ranchero 
dress — not  only  to  facilitate  my  movements,  and  screen 
me  from  occasional  imposition,  but  because  I  knew  it  to 
be  the  "  toggery  "  best  suited  to  the  saddle,  and  especially 
for  such  a  journey  as  I  was  undertaking.  As  yet  I  had 
neither  guide  nor  servant,  but  a  man  who  was  to  act  in  this 
double  capacity  would  be  found  farther  on — upon  an 
estate  belonging  to  Don  Hilario,  near  the  village  of  Santa 
Fe.  My  friend  had  given  me  the  clue  to  discover  this 
individual,  described  by  him  as  un  hombre  de  bien  (an  honest 


A   ZIGZAG  JOURNEY  THROUGH   MEXICO. 


241 


fellow)  and  one  well  acquainted  with  all  the  ways  of  the 
country,  its  highways  and  byeways.  Don  Hilario  had 
written  to  tell  him  I  was  coming,  and  given  him  orders  to 
j)repare  for  accompanying  me.  So  far  as  Santa  Fe  I  needed 
no  guide.  I  had  scouted  that  country  twenty  years  before, 
and,  to  use  a  familiar  expression,  knew  every  inch  of  it ;  so 
that,  on  setting  forth  from  Vera  Cruz,  I  might  have  been 
described,  after  the  mode  of  an  immortal  novelist,  as  *'a 
solitary  horseman,  with  a  serape  over  his  shoulders  and  a 
Tyrolese  hat  upon  his  head,  seen  riding  out  from  one  of  the 
gates  of  the  city  of  Vera  Cruz,  and  heading  his  horse 
towards  the  interior." 

It  may  seem  odd  to  speak  of  the  gates  of  an  American 
city,  but  in  Vera  Cruz,  as  in  most  other  Mexican  towns, 
there  are  such ;  and  you  cannot  enter  or  go  out  without 
passing  through  a  gate,  with  a  sentry  standing,  or  it  may 
be  sitting,  guard  by  it,  and  a  squad  of  slovenly  soldiers 
lounging  under  the  shadow  of  its  portals.  These  gates, 
called  garitas,  are  of  the  old  fortified-city  type,  with  guard- 
room attached ;  though  for  any  obstruction  to  an  enemy 
they  would  be  of  slight  service.  The  chief  object  in  main- 
taining them  is  the  collection  of  the  alcabala — a  duty  levied 
on  all  produce  and  other  commodities  that  enter  the  city 
for  sale.  It  is,  in  fact,  the  octroi  of  Mexico,  and  other  parts 
of  Spanish  America — one  of  those  absurd  imposts,  only 
causing  obstruction  to  trade,  there  as  elsewhere. 

There  are  three  of  these  gates  gi\ing  exit  from  Vera 
Cruz.  One,  the  Puerta  de  la  Merced,  leads  out  southward 
for  Alvarado,  and  other  towns  along  the  coast.  Only  on  this 
side  is  there  anything  Hke  a  suburb,  and  that  but  a  few  build- 
ings connected  with  the  cemetery,  the  Alameda,  or  public 
promenade,  and,  of  later  years,  a  railway-station.      Thai 


' 


!7* 


f  .- 


%. 


i;i 


■8-1 


'  I: 


242 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


opening  northward,  Puerta  de  Mexico^  is  for  the  Jalapa  road, 
leading  also  to  Villa  Antigua — the  Vera  Cruz  of  Cortez — on 
the  Antigua  river.  On  this  route  there  are  no  suburban 
houses  ;  nor  are  there  any  on  the  third  road,  which,  passing 
out  through  the  Puerta  Nueva,  about  half-way  between 
the  other  two,  strikes  at  once  into  the  interior  of  the 
country. 

Vera  Cruz  is  not  only  a  walled  city,  but  a  fortified  one — 
a  thing  still  more  rarely  met  with  in  America.  There  is  a 
battlement,  or  breakwater,  on  the  sea  side,  of  coral  rock, 
defending  it  from  the  tidal  wash ;  while  landward  it  is  girt 
by  a  wall  of  the  same  material,  with  fortresses  at  each  flank, 
and  redoubts  here  and  there  all  around.  The  wall  is  about 
ten  feet  in  height,  and  presumptively  meant  as  a  work  of 
defence.  During  the  siege  of  1846  the  American  artillerists 
found  no  difficulty  in  breaching  it — round  shot  smashing 
through  the  madrepore,  and,  as  an  Irishman  might  say, 
knocking  it  into  "  smithereens."  The  wall  is  scarcely  worth 
breaching ;  and  even  scaling-ladders  would  be  almost 
superfluous  for  storming  it.  An  active  soldier  could  easily 
spring  up  to  its  crest,  or  get  hoisted  on  the  shoulders  of  a 
comrade. 

Quite  as  ludicrous  was  another  defensive  scheme  put  in 
practice  by  the  besieged  on  that  occasion.  Outside  the 
slight  enceinte,  and  all  around,  a  double  row  of  pits  was  dug 
in  the  soft  sand.  They  were  circular,  some  three  or  four 
feet  deep,  and  of  the  shape  of  inverted  cones.  In  the  apex 
bottom  of  each  was  a  spear-head,  set  point  upward.  It  was 
supposed  that  the  American  stormers — had  it  come  to 
storming — would  have  been  silly  enough  to  impale  them- 
selves on  these  spikes  !  A  blind  man  might  have  avoided 
the  pits ;  and,  even  in  the  darkest  night,  it  would  have  been 


\m 


KJ 


'  !  li 


Q    2 


m ! 


iiflli 


III  I 


ill  ill 


l!BI 


A   ZIGZAG   JOURNEY   THROUGH    MEXICO. 


245 


an  easy  matter  to  pass  between  any  two  of  them  without 
tumbling  in  It  was  a  contrivance  worthy  of  those  Chinese 
engineers  who  build  fortresses  of  planks  and  pasteboard. 

ZOPILOTES    AND    SAND-DUNES. 

The  city  of  Vera  Cruz  is  in  shape  almost  an  exact  semi- 
circle, the  sea-wall,  of  about  a  mile  in  length,  forming  its 
diameter.  At  each  extremity  is  a  fort :  Santiago  on  the 
south,  and  Concepcion  flanking  it  on  the  north.  Midway 
between  the  two  the  Mole  projects  towards  San  Juan,  which 
lies  directly  abreast,  about  twelve  hundred  yards  from  the 
pier-head.  The  streets  of  the  city  cross  one  another 
rectangularly,  and  there  is  a  large  public  square  in  the  centre. 
The  "  Plaza  Grande  " — or,  as  it  is  sometimes  called.  Plaza 
mayor — is  a  characteristic  feature  of  all  Mexican  cities.  It 
is  always  in  a  central  position,  having  the  cathedral  or 
church  on  one  side ;  a  second  occupied  by  the  Government 
buildings  or  town-house  (cabildo) ;  a  block  of  warehouses 
with  a  covered  footway  in  front  (portales),  taking  up  a 
third  side  ;  while  the  fourth  is  usually  enclosed  by  a  line  of 
shops.  It  is  the  chief  place  of  rendezvous  at  all  times,  but 
more  especially  in  the  later  hours  of  the  evening,  when  the 
sidewalk  under  the  shade  of  the  portales  is  frequently 
crowded  by  promenaders,  and  presents  a  very  animated 
scene. 

I  passed  through  the  Puerta  Nueva,  the  gate  that  gives 
exit  for  Santa  Fe.  It  debouches  on  a  plain  of  sand — a 
trackless  waste,  that  imparts  the  idea  of  a  desert.  As  if  to 
strengthen  the  impression,  just  on  issuing  from  the  gate  a 
characteristic  spectacle  was  presented :  the  carcase  of  a 
large  animal,  horse  or  mule — I  did  not  stop  to  determine 


■t 


n     I 


I 


246 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


iHimiiui 


iiiiiii 


which — surrounded  by  vultures,  some  of  them  perched  upon 
and  picking  it. 

These  black  vultures  of  Vera  Cruz — called  zopilotes — are 
a  peculiar  feature  of  the  place.  They  are  tame  as  domestic 
turkeys,  roosting  upon  the  towers,  cupolas,  and  housetops. 
This  comes  from  their  being  protected  by  law  —  on 
account  of  the  valuable  service  they  perform  as  scavengers. 
No  one  is  allowed  wantonly  to  destroy  them.  Twenty- 
five  dollars  is  the  penalty  for  shooting  or  otherwise  killing, 
a  zopilote. 

Although  to  the  ordinary  observer  there  appears  but  one 
species  of  these  birds,  the  naturalist  can  make  out  two,  and 
most  probably  a  third,  existing  in  the  coast-lands  of  Vera 
Cruz.  The  species  within  the  city  walls  is  that  known  in 
the  Southern  United  States  as  the  "  carrion  crow  "  {Catharies 
atratus).  But  there  is  on  this  coast  also  the  "  turkey  buzzard  " 
(C  aura))  and  undoubtedly  a  third  species  different  from 
either,  more  resembling  the  turkey  buzzard  than  the  carrion 
crow.  It  is,  however,  easily  distinguished  from  the  C.  aura, 
by  its  plumage  being  of  a  more  sable  cast,  and  the  red  on 
its  neck  and  legs  of  a  deeper  and  livelier  tint.  It  is  the 
Cathartes  burrovianus. 

There  is  still  another  vulture  which  may  be  occasionally 
met  with  in  the  coast-lands  of  Vera  Cruz,  though  not  near 
the  city  itself.  This  is  the  most  remarkable  of  all — in  short, 
the  monarch  of  the  tribe.  It  is  the  "  King  Vulture " 
{Sarcoramp/ius  papa).  We  may  have  occasion  to  speak  of 
.these  vultures  again. 

Riding  out  from  Vera  Cruz,  and  striking  towards  the 
interior,  you  are  met  by  the  sand-dunes,  there  termed 
medaiios.  They  trend  north  and  south  along  the  coast  of 
the  Mexican  Gulf,  following  the   shore-line,  and  generally 


K  ZIGZAG  JOURNEY  THROUGH   MEXICO. 


247 


running  parallel  to  it.  There  is  a  belt  of  low-lying  level 
beach,  or  strand,  between  their  nearest  ridges  and  the  sea. 
It  is  of  varying  breadth — from  a  few  hundred  yards  to  as 
much  as  a  mile  in  ^,ome  places.  It  is  nearly  of  this  breadth 
behind  Vera  Cruz,  narrowing  north  and  south,  till  the  city 
seems  to  stand  in  a  semicircular  plain.  At  high  tide,  and 
when  there  is  an  in-blowing  storm  from  the  Gulf,  a  portion 
of  the  plain  becomes  flooded  with  sea-water ;  when  the  sand, 
being  held  in  suspension,  is  carried  shoreward  by  the  current 
of  the  Gulf  Stream,  and  deposited  there.  As  the  tide  rarely 
rises  over  three  feet,  these  inundations  are  of  only  occasional 
occurrence ;  and  in  the  intervals  the  sand,  desiccated  under 
the  hot  tropical  sun,  is  lifted  by  the  first  strong  wmd,  and 
wafted  about  in  every  direction.  The  consequence  is  that 
tiimes  are  formed  at  a  short  distance  from  the  shore,  assum- 
ing various  shapes — such  as  mounds,  or  hillocks  with  dome- 
like tops,  and  ridges  with  precipitous  sides  and  overhanging 
combs,  between  which  lie  deep  hollows  or  valleys  of 
equally  fantastic  formation.  It  is  just  as  with  snow  in  a 
great  drift-storm;  only  that  the  medanos  of  the  Mexican 
Gulf  coast  frequently  attain  to  the  height  of  real  hills — 
rising  sixty  or  seventy  feet  above  the  level  of  the  adjacent 
plain.  In  some  cases  they  have  a  breadth  of  several  miles 
landward. 

Those  lying  nearest  the  sea  are  subject  to  constant 
change  by  the  shifting  of  the  wind.  In  a  single  night  a 
dome  or  ridge  will  disappear,  while  a  new  one  will  have 
arisen  near  by,  perhaps  trending  in  a  different  direction. 
Every  road  and  path  is  obliterated ;  and  even  a  bulky 
article,  left  for  a  while  among  the  medanos,  may  be  found 
"  smoored*  up,  and  perhaps  quite  irrecoverable. 

An  incident  that  occurred  to  me  during  the  American 


I 


m 


'  i 

'i 

;    i'  I 


I 


■'r-     it 


'i 


248 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


I 


ill  ill 


f' 


siege  will  illustrate  this  peculiarity.  In  command  of  a  de- 
tachment of  soldiers,  I  was  ordered  on  one  occasion  to  hold 
a  position  on  a  sand-ridge  in  the  rear  of  the  city.  As  there 
was  a  picket  in  front  of  us,  I  saw  no  necessity  for  the  men 
to  keep  awake.  They  went  to  sleep,  therefore,  with  heads 
resting  upon  their  knapsacks.  During  the  night  there 
sprang  up  a  norte^  or  "  norther,"  as  the  Americans  designate 
the  dreaded  cempest  of  the  Mexican  Gulf.  The  sand 
swirled  up,  and  rushed  about  in  every  direction — not  only 
entering  our  eyes,  but  striking  the  cheeks  so  sharply  as  to 
cause  acute  pain.  The  men,  covering  their  faces  with  the 
capes  of  their  overcoats,  lay  still  and  fell  asleep.  So  also 
did  I.  I  well  remember  my  surprise,  when  I  awoke  next 
morning,  just  as  the  day  was  breaking.  Near  me  was  nothing 
bearing  the  slightest  resemblance  to  a  soldier,  or  human 
being  of  any  kind.  Only  a  number  of  protuberances  that  rose 
slightly  above  the  general  level  of  the  surface.  They  were 
the  crania  of  my  still  sleeping  comrades,  wrapped  in  their 
overcoat  capes,  and  resting  upon  their  knapsacks.  But  for 
their  heads  being  thus  elevated,  they  would  no  doubt  have 
been,  like  the  rest  of  their  bodies,  buried  beneath  the 
drift. 

On  another  occasion,  going  with  a  party  on  scout,  my 
men  left  their  knapsacks,  with  other  impedimenta^  on  the 
slope  of  a  sand-dune.  A  norte  sprang  up  during  our 
absence  ;  and  on  our  return  the  knapsacks  were  nowhere  to 
be  seen.  For  a  time  we  thought  they  had  been  picked  up 
by  an  adventurous  party  of  the  enemy  s  guerilleros ;  till  some 
one  tramping  over  the  spot,  and  sinking  deep  into  the  soft 
yielding  sand,  accidentally  struck  upon  the  lost  equipments. 
But  for  this  it  is  quite  possible  we  might  never  have  re- 
covered them ;   as  the  ridge  upon  which   they  had  been 


A  ZIGZAG  JOURNEY  THROUGH   MEXICO. 


249 


deposited  had  altogether  changed  its  general  appearance — 
even  its  trend  having  to  some  extent  altered. 

The  sand-dunes  of  the  Vera  Cruz  coast  should  possess  a 
high  interest  for  the  geologist,  since  they  show  a  portion  of 
the  earth's  crust  in  process  of  formation.  In  the  course  of 
time  the  hillocks  are  no  longer  disturbed  by  the  wind,  but 
become  stationary.  During  the  season  of  the  heavy  tropical 
rains — which  is  in  summer  when  the  northers  have  ceased  to 
blow — the  saturated  sand  resists  the  ordinary  sea-breeze, 
and  remains  fixed  for  a  sufficient  length  of  time  te  enable 
plants  to  propagate  themselves  upon  it.  At  first  appear 
certain  species  of  comellnacece^  with  thick  succulent  stalks. 
These  vegetate  rapidly,  and  as  soon  decay — the  debris  of 
their  leaves  forming  a  thin  layer  of  mould.  This  gives 
nourishment  to  other  plants  of  several  different  species  and 
genera — principally  syngenesists  and  convolvidiy  vv'ith  one  or 
two  kinds  of  cactus.  Fresh  seeds  are  blown  thither  by  the 
wind,  or  carried  in  the  beaks  of  birds  ;  and  new  plants 
spring  up,  till  the  surface  becomes  quite  covered  with  a 
vegetation,  that  shades  it  from  sun  and  wind,  while  the 
roots  and  tendrils  of  the  plants  assist  in  keeping  the  sand  in 
its  place.  Shrubs  next  spring  up — among  which  may  be 
mentioned  a  dwarf  species  of  acacia^  with  large  curved  spines 
— a  leguminous  shrub — and  finally  trees. 

But  if  vegetation  is  here  rapidly  produced,  it  is  also  some- 
times more  rapidly  destroyed.  The  shrubs  and  trees  are 
not  unfrequently  found  growing  in  the  hollows  between  the 
ridges.  After  remaining  undisturbed  for  years,  and  until 
they  have  attained  a  considerable  size,  they  get  sanded  up 
by  the  storm  and  quite  killed.  I  have  seen  trees  of  twenty 
feet  in  height  so  smothered  in  a  smgle  night  that  only  their 
topmost  twigs  were  visible  above  the  drift,  while  others  had 


i^>.9 


iii 


!  'i ! 

m 


il'll'i    li  B. 


250 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


entirely  disappeared.  Is  it  likely,  then,  that  the  presence  of 
some  of  the  ligneous  relics  found  in  our  sand-pits  may  be 
due  to  the  action  of  wind,  and  not,  as  generally  supposed, 
to  that  of  water? 

From  what  is  at  present  transpiring  upon  the  coast  of  the 
Mexican  Gulf,  it  is  evident  that  the  land  is  there  gaining. 
The  process  may  be  slow,  yet  it  is  observable.  When  Vera 
Cruz  was  removed  to  its  present  site — nearly  three  centuries 
ago — the  sea-level  plain  upon  which  it  is  built  was  of  much 
greater  extent  than  it  is  now.  A  series  of  ridges — once 
naked  sand,  now  converted  into  firm  soil,  and  covered  with 
forest  trees — are  crossed  as  you  proceed  inward  from  the 
shore.  Those  lying  farthest  back  show  by  their  vegetable 
growth  an  older  formation  than  the  dunes  nearest  the  sea. 
Several  of  these  hillocks,  in  the  rear  of  the  city  itself,  are 
now  so  near  as  to  be  within  cannon-she t  of  the  walls — a 
disadvantage  to  Vera  Cruz,  in  the  event  of  bombardment 
from  the  land  side.  During  the  siege,  this  was  proved  by 
by  the  American  artillerists ;  who,  from  the  crests  of  these 
very  sand-dunes,  and  with  ordinary  howitzers,  threw  shells 
into  the  town,  and  all  over  it. 

On  emerging  from  the  gates  of  Vera  Cruz,  and  facing 
westward,  the  traveller  has  before  him  about  as  dreary  a 
prospect  as  may  well  be  imagined.  It  is  not  easy  to 
believe  that  beyond  these  sombre  medanos — appearing  to 
stretch  inimitably  before  him — lies  a  zone  of  vegetation 
which,  for  luxuriant  richness,  will  compare  with  anything 
in  the  world. 


TRULY   A   STRANGE   HORSEMAN. 

Eager  to  enter  the  tropical  forest,  I  spurred  my  horse 
across  the  plain,  scarce  staying  to  notice  the  stunted  mezquite 


A   ZIGZAG  JOURNEY   THROUGH   MEXICO. 


251 


trees  that,  here  and  there  rising  a  few  feet,  seemed  to 
struggle  with  the  dust  for  existence ;  all  the  less  likely  to 
prove  victorious  in  the  strife  since  their  leaves  and  siliques 
were  being  browsed  upon  by  some  scores  of  donkeys. 

These  asses,  of  very  small  size,  are  a  feature  in  thte 
scenery  of  Vera  Cruz  and  its  environs.  They  are  great  aids 
to  the  Indian,  as  well  as  the  negro  denizen  of  the  coast 
region ;  and,  although  they  are  also  common  on  the  colder 
table-lands  of  the  interior,  they  thrive  equally  well  in  the 
tropical  tierra  calicfite;  proving  that  this  useful  animal  may 
be  acclimatised  almost  anywhere.  I  believe  the  patient 
creature  could  endure  the  chill  atmosphere  of  Iceland,  as  he 
does  the  sultry  siroccos  of  Tangiers  and  Timbuctoo. 

Talking  of  a  sultry  atmosphere,  I  was  reminded  of  it  as 
I  rode  across  the  sand-plain.  It  was  the  month  of  January, 
and  yet  the  sun  shining  upon  me  had  as  much  strength  as 
in  an  English  July.  I  pulled  the  serape  from  off  my 
shoulders,  and  folded  it,  Mexican  fashion,  across  the  croup 
of  my  saddle.  While  occupied  with  this  little  arrangement, 
I  lost  some  few  moments  of  time,  during  which  I  permitted 
my  horse  to  take  his  own  course.  When  I  again  caught 
hold  of  the  bridle,  and  was  preparing  to  proceed  along  the 
road,  there  was  no  road  ! 

I  was  not  so  very  much  surprised  at  this;  I  knew  the 
nature  of  the  travelled  tracks  over  the  sand-plain  of  Vera 
Cruz,  and  that  in  a  single  night  they  often  get  obliterated. 
The  wind  does  this,  even  when  it  is  but  a  zephyr.  I  looked 
toward  the  medanos,  still  some  distance  ahead ;  but  could 
not  recognise  the  defiles  through  which,  twenty  years  before, 
the  Santa  Fe  road  used  to  pass.  The  silhouette  of  the 
sand-hills  seemed  entirely  changed. 

I  drew  bridle,  and  sat  hesitatingly  in  the  saddle.      I 


1   i\ 


1 

1 

i        B 

1 

1 

i         (11 
1 

252 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


,Jf" 

ii 


began  to  think  I  had  made  a  mistake,  in  supposing  I  could 
so  easily  find  my  way  as  far  as  Santa  Fe.  I  regretted  not 
having  engaged  a  guide,  or  accepted  the  services  of  one  that 
Don  Hilario  had  offered  me.  I  was  still  only  a  short  gallop 
from  the  garita.  Should  I  ride  on,  or  go  back?  Saving 
the  city  dwellings  behind,  there  was  no  house  near — 
not  even  a  hut ;  nor  any  human  being — not  even  a  donkey- 
driver. 

While  thus  perplexed — seated  in  my  saddle,  and  scan- 
ning the  profile  of  the  medanos — I  became  sensible  of  a 
sound,  as  of  the  pattering  of  a  horse's  hoofs  in  the  soft  sand. 
It  came  from  behind  me.  Turning,  I  beheld  a  horseman. 
He  was  going  at  a  gallop,  and  in  a  direction  that,  if  con- 
tinued, would  bring  him  within  about  a  hundred  yards  ot 
where  I  had  halted.  I  had  just  time  to  rein  round,  facing 
him,  when  he  reached  the  point  of  passing  me.  But  before 
I  could  call  out  to  him  to  stop — that  I  might  inquire  the 
way — he  too  reined  up,  saving  me  the  necessity. 

I  looked  upon  a  picture  that  could  be  seen  only  on 
Mexican  soil.  The  strange  horseman  was  attired  in  the  full 
ranchero  dress — a  costume  that  in  point  of  picturesqueness 
is  not  anywhere  excelled.  The  broad-brimmed  hat  upon 
his  head,  with  a  checkered  kerchief  underneath,  was  encircled 
by  a  toqiiilla  of  shining  pearls  ;  a  manga  of  purple-coloured 
cloth  streamed  back  from  his  shoulders,  showing  the  sash 
of  scarlet  crape  around  his  waist ;  calzoneros  of  blue 
velveteen ;  snow-white  calzoficillos^  and  Cordovan  leather 
boots,  heavily  spurred,  appeared  beneath.  I  recognised  the 
"rig"  at  a  glance — the  typical  costume  oi the  Jarocho. 

He  was  riding  a  fiery  horse,  which  he  had  suddenly 
pulled  back  upon  its  haunches,  until  the  long  tresses  of  its 
tail  touched  the  sand.      Both  horse  and  horseman  remained 


I  ' 


r:    i 


'i^l    Ml 

Mi- 


s'" i 

m 


JAROCHOS. 


A  ZIGZAG  JOURNEY  THROUGH   MEXICO. 


255 


in  this  attitude  for  some  moments;  though  not  until  I 
could  summon  resolution  to  address  him,  and  make  known 
my  wants.     In  this  he  anticipated  me. 

"  Nor  deconocio"  he  called  out — in  a  patois  which  1 
knew  how  to  translate  as  "  senor  desconocido " — "  may  I 
take  the  liberty  of  asking  you  whether  you  have  lost  your 
way  ?     If  not,  it  is  unwise  of  you  to  be  dallying  where  you 


are. 

"Why?"  I  asked,  spurring  my  horse,  and  trotting 
briskly  towards  him. 

"  Why !     Do  you  not  see  the  signs?" 

"Signs!  of  what?" 

^^ El  norte,  nor,     I  suppose  you  understand  that?" 

"  Yes  j  but  I  see  no  signs  of  a  norte.  On  the  contrary, 
the  air  is  uncomfortably  hot,  with  a  wind  blowing  from  the 
south.     I  don't  see  the  slightest  indication  of  a  storm." 

"  Indeed !  And  yet  you  appear  to  be  one  who  should 
know  what's  what.  After  all,  you're  coming  from  the  town. 
I,  early  this  morning,  rode  in  from  the  country  ;  therefore  I 
have  the  advantage  of  you.  On  my  journey  what  did  I  see? 
Ants  crossing  the  track,  and  crawling  up  the  slopes  to  reach 
the  higher  ground.  What  did  I  hear?  The  vaquero  kite 
screaming  shrill.  And  weren't  the  bulls  bellowing  like  mad, 
as  I  passed  through  the  savannah  !  Besides,  I  saw  the 
storm  suchil  shut  up  its  flowers ;  which  it  never  does  unless 
at  the  approach  of  a  norte.  You  say  there's  a  hot  wind 
blowing  from  the  south.  Well,  iior^  that  is  the  best  proof 
that  the  norte  is  near.  Miro !  you  see  that  little  cloud 
standing  over  Misantla?" 

He  pointed  towards  the  ridge  of  mountains  rising  to  the 
northward,  and  known  by  this  name. 

"  See  !   it  is  coming  this  way.    Now,  don't  you  feel  its 


I'll 


1 


11 


250 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


first  breath — cold  as  the  snows  of  Orizava?  Say,  «^r, 
which  way  do  you  want  to  go  ?  Decide  at  once,  for  I  can't 
delay  with  you  any  longer.  Are  you  for  the  country,  or  the 
town?" 

"I  am  going  to  Santa  Fe'." 

*'  My  route  also.  Come  on  then,  if  you  have  any  wish 
to  travel  in  company." 

"  I  have  that  wish."  ". 

^'' Miiy  Men  !  vavionos  !^^  .    ■     •■ 

Turning  his  horse's  head  to  the  road — to  him  well  known 
— the  Jarocho  started  off  at  a  gallop.  Spurring  my  own 
mount,  I  followed  in  his  track,  without  saying  a  word. 

We  had  not  ridden  much  farther,  before  I  became  aware 
how  truthfully  he  had  forecast  the  weather.  His  natural 
barometers  proved  true  to  the  forewarnings  with  which  they 
had  furnished  him.  A  whiff  of  cold  wind  striking  against 
my  cheek — the  one  turned  towards  the  polar  star — ad- 
monished me  that  the  norther  was  approaching ;  and,  before 
we  had  ridden  three  hundred  yards  farther — going  at  a 
gallop — the  sun  was  suddenly  obscured  by  a  cloud,  the  sky 
became  dark  as  in  a  total  eclipse,  and  the  atmosphere  felt 
as  chill  as  if  the  snows  of  Citlatepetl  had  been  showered 
upon  the  plain. 

As  we  passed  through  the  defiles  of  the  medanos,  the 
sand  was  swirling  up  into  the  air,  and  pelting  spitefully 
against  our  faces.  I  was  half  suffocated,  half  blinded  ;  nor 
could  I  have  proceeded  farther,  but  for  my  horse,  whose 
speed  enabled  him  to  keep  pace  with  the  steed  ridden  by 
the  Jarocho 

THE   JAROCHOS. 


We  were  soon  clear  of  the  medanos,  and  riding  under  the 


Jl 


A  ZIGZAG  JOURNEY  THROUGH    MEXICO. 


257 


shelter  of  trees ;  where,  although  still  suffering  the  chill  of 
the  norte^  the  wind  had  ceased  to  buffet  and  the  dust  to 
blind  us.  Having  unstrapped  my  serape  from  the  croup, 
and  thrust  my  head  through  its  central  slit,  I  was  no  longer 
discommoded  by  the  storm,  and  could  give  closer  scrutiny 
to  my  travelling  companion.  A  Jarocho,  beyond  doubt. 
His  form,  of  medium  size,  somewhat  spare,  with  limbs  lithe 
and  sinewy;  his  features,  of  oval  shape,  sharply  defined,  the 
lip  and  chin  slightly  bearded ;  the  complexion,  of  clear 
brown,  with  a  slight  cinnamon  or  olive  tint,  all  bespoke  the 
Jarocho.  Had  it  been  in  Spain  I  might  have  taken  him  for 
a  gypsy:  for  there  are  many  points  of  similarity  between  the 
gitanos  of  Andalusia  and  the  inhabitants  of  the  Vera  Cruz 
coast-land — some  writers  even  stating  this  to  be  the  origin 
of  the  Jarocho  people.  The  resemblance  is  not  only  in 
personal  appearance,  but  in  mental  and  moral  characteristics. 
The  Jarocho,  like  the  gypsy,  dislikes  regular  employment. 
He  is,  indeed,  averse  to  industry  of  any  kind,  since  it  neces- 
sitates toil.  He  has  a  contempt  for  the  town,  as  also  its 
people,  and  prefers  the  country,  and  even  the  solitude  of 
the  forest ;  where,  in  his  slight  shed  of  a  hut  he  can  dwell 
undisturbed,  indulging  in  the  dolce  far  niente  of  the  tropics. 
Unlike  the  Zingari,  however,  he  has  a  fixed  home,  and  is 
otherwise  a  respectable  member  of  society — not  like  them 
socially,  either  an  outcast  or  vagabond.  Although  but  a 
small  proprietor,  he  is  master  of  the  scenes  around  him  : 
and  mtermittently  follows  an  occupation :  it  may  be  the 
herding  of  cattle,  or  the  burning  of  charcoal,  combined  with 
hunting,  fishing,  and  collecting  honey  from  the  wild  hives  of 
the  forest.  At  times  he  will  take  a  turn  at  peddling,  or 
contrabandism,  for  which  last  the  oppressive  custoiii-house 
regulations  of  his  country  give  him  a  plausible  excuse,  and 


w 


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25s; 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


1(1,1 «  .-  «■ 


'    ''li 


the  proximity  of  the  coast,  indented  with  inlets,  a  splendid 
opportunity.  He  takes  pleasure,  and  holds  it  almost  a 
civic  virtue,  to  break  through  the  Government  monopoly  of 
tobacco  at  Orizava ;  and  will  assist  with  equal  alacrity  m 
lading  a  smuggler  with  vanilla  from  the  mountains  and 
valleys  of  Misantla,  cochineal  from  Oaxaca,  or  silver  bars 
from  the  mines  of  Real  del  Monte.  No  man  knows  better 
than  he  the  routes  and  roads,  the  paths  and  passes,  trodden 
by  the  contrabandista.  Although  habitually  given  to  a  life 
of  lassitude,  no  one  shows  more  active  energy,  or  will  under- 
go greater  toil,  when  engaged  in  any  occupation  that  pleases 
him.  Of  these,  cattle-herding  and  looking  after  horses 
are  the  most  congenial.  In  both  employments  he  spend 
most  of  his  time,  riding  at  a  hard  rate  through  the  chaparrals^ 
and  over  the  savannas.  In  hor.  nanship  he  is  a  centaur, 
and  would  be  ashamed  of  being  seen  on  foot.  His  horse, 
or  andante^  as  he  calls  the  animal,  stands  at  all  times  ready 
saddled  by  his  door,  tied  to  a  tree,  or  under  a  shed  near  by. 
If  it  be  an  errand  of  only  a  few  hundred  yards,  he  would 
disdain  to  execute  it  as  a  pedestrian.  Whatever  the  busi- 
ness be,  it  must  be  transacted  in  the  saddle.  His  wife  tells 
him  there  is  water  wanted  for  some  culinary  purpose ;  he 
springs  upon  the  back  of  his  horse,  having  first  slung  a  pair 
of  cajitaros,  that  balance  one  another,  by  a  strap  over  the 
croup  of  the  saddle.  Thus  accoutred,  he  rides  to  the 
nearest  stream,  spurs  his  animal  into  it,  and  wades  on  till 
the  jars  have  tilled  themselves.  Then,  returning  to  the  hut, 
he  slips  out  of  the  saddle,  and  very  often  leaves  the  un- 
loading to  be  done  by  his  wife,  or  some  other  individual  of 
his  household.  Fire-wood  he  fetches  from  the  forest  in 
a  similar  free-and-easy  fashion.  A  log  being  selected,  it  is 
noosed  in  his  lazo^  and  tied  to  the  tail  of  his  horse.     The 


A   ZIGZAG   JOURNLY    TIIKOUGH    MEXICO. 


259 


andante  then  drags  it  to  the  house,  and  often  inside,  when 
it  is  set  free,  with  one  end  thrust  into  the  cinders.  As  the 
point  burns  off,  it  is  pushed  farther  up,  till  the  whole  is  con- 
sumed, and  another  log  is  rec^uired  for  similar  transport. 

In  the  intervals  of  his  leisure  the  Jarocho  swings  in  his 
hammock,  usually  stretched  between  two  trees,  smokes  his 
paper  cigarette,  and  reHects  upon  the  pleasures  he  has  had 
at  the  last  fandango^  or  more  likely  those  he  exi)ects  at  the 
fete  that  is  to  come.  Now  and  then  he  will  take  up  his 
vi/itiela,  OT  jar  ana  (a  small  kind  of  guitar),  screw  the  strings 
to  the  proper  tension,  strum  a  tune  he  intends  playing  at 
the  next  meeting  with  his  sweetheart — if  a  bachelor,  and 
sometimes  when  a  Benedict,  for  very  often  he  is  a  sad  rake. 
To  give  him  a  better  chance  of  being  rewarded  by  her 
smiles,  he  will  add  the  words  also,  for  the  Jarocho  is  not 
only  a  poet,  but  an  improvisatore — in  short,  a  sort  ol 
Transatlantic  troubadour.  At  other  times  he  may  be  seen 
looking  after  his  game  cock — since  cock-fighting  is  one  of 
his  favourite  pastimes — and  several  champion  chanticleers 
may  be  found  among  his  live  stock,  sharing  his  affections 
with  his  dog  and  his  andante.  He  will  be  seen  preparing 
his  lines  and  nets  for  the  fishery  and  turde-taking  ;  his  gins 
and  other  implements  for  the  chase,  the  game  being  the 
small  Mexican  deer,  the  agouti,  armadilloes,  and  iguanas, 
AN-ith  partridges,  wild  turkeys,  penelopes,  and  several  species 
of  curassow.  He  also  proves  his  prowess  in  the  grand  chase 
by  attacking  the  cougar  and  jaguar,  or,  as  they  are  called  by 
him,  the  lion  and  tiger.  When  his  calling  is  that  oivaquero^ 
most  of  his  time  is  taken  up  in  looking  after  the  herds  of 
cattle  and  horses  that  roam  over  the  savannas  belonging  to 
the  large  haciendas  de  ga?iado,  or  grazing  farms.  In  this 
wild  pastoral   life   he   takes   especial   delight.      With  tl:e 

R    2 


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i- 


26o 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES, 


haciendas  de  labor — the  estates  wliere  cultivation  is  carried 
on — he  will  have  nothing  to  do.  An  ngricultural  life  is  not 
congenial  to  him,  as  it  involves  painstaking  and  systematic 
toil.  He  leaves  this  to  the  pure-blooded  and  patient  Indian 
aboriginal  "hewer  of  wood  and  drawer  of  water,"  who 
breaks  the  clod  at  this  hour,  as  in  the  days  of  Montezuma. 
Any  farming  operations  undertaken  by  the  Jarocho  are  upon 
the  most  limited  scale,  in  a  style  quite  primitive.  With  his 
machete  he  clears  a  patch  of  forest  contiguous  to  his  dwell- 
ing, not  larger  than  a  good-sized  garden.  He  only  cuts 
away  the  underwood,  leaving  the  larger  trees  standing;  it 
would  be  too  much  exertion  to  fell  one  of  these.  When  the 
lopped  saplings  become  sufficiently  desiccated  in  the  sun, 
he  drags  them  into  a  heap,  and  puts  the  torch  to  them. 
Making  no  attempt  to  plough  up  the  ground,  he  does  his 
planting  and  sowing  with  a  hoe,  or  the  end  of  a  pointed 
stick.  Nature,  exuberant  around  him,  completes  the  culti- 
vation in  a  few  months,  or  even  weeks,  rewarding  him  with 
a  crop.  This  is  of  varied  kind,  commensurate  with  his 
wants  and  wishes.  A  patch  of  maize  plants  to  furnish 
zacate  for  his  horse  and  corn  for  his  tortillas  ;  some  plantains 
to  be  eaten  raw,  or  fried  in  lard ;  yams  and  the  manioc  root, 
with  onions,  garlic,  and  several  species  of  capsicum,  to  give 
savour  to  his  stews  of  tasajo,  tomatoes,  and  frisoles.  Of 
fruits  he  is  fond,  but  these  give  him  no  trouble  in  their 
production.  They  grow  almost  spontaneously  around  him, 
and  plenteously,  as  if  Pomona  herself  had  spread  his  table 
with  a  dessert,  rich  and  profuse.  So  numerous  are  the  kinds 
set  before  him,  it  would  look  too  like  a  catalogue  to  give 
but  a  list  of  their  names.  One  might  suppose  that  almost 
every  genus  in  the  Genera  Plantarum  had  contributed  its 
quota  to  the  Mexican  tropical  fruit-market. 


A  ZIGZAG   JOURNEY   THROUGH    MEXICO. 


261 


Thus  bountifLilly  provided  for,  it  is  scarcely  to  be  won- 
dered at  that  tlie  Jarocho  leads  an  indolent  life ;  for  to  this 
he  is  prompted  both  by  nature,  inclination,  and  the  hot 
atmosphere  he  is  compelled  almost  perpetually  to  breathe. 

There  are  times  when  he  exhibits  the  very  opposite — an 
extreme  activity,  coupled  with  the  most  passionate  excite- 
ment. See  him  on  horseback,  lazo  in  hand,  winding  its 
noose  around  his  head,  or  flinging  it  over  the  horns  of  a  fierce 
bull  j  behold  him  on  the  back  of  an  untamed  and  kicking 
colt,  which  he  breaks  for  the  saddle  ;  watcli  him  at  Jli's/a  or 
fandango^  when  he  is  himself  a  spectator  of  his  sweetheart 
engaged  in  the  dance ;  note  how  his  eyes  sparkle  with 
jealous  fire,  and  his  hand  nervously  clutches  the  hilt  of  his 
ever-ready  hanger  ;  follow  him  through  the  fray  that  on  such 
occasions  is  pretty  certain  to  ensue  at  the  slightest  sign 
either  of  rivalry  or  insult ;  observe  him  through  all  these, 
his  pursuits  as  well  as  vagaries,  and  you  will  with  difficulty 
believe  him  to  be  the  same  individual  you  saw  indolently 
reclining  in  his  hamaca^  and  seeming  too  lazy  to  beslir 
himself  for  either  business  or  pleasure. 

With  some  strange,  and  not  altogether  creditable,  charac- 
teristics, the  Jarocho  is  nevertheless  a  man  to  be  admired. 
He  is  proud  of  his  independence,  and  will  fight  to  preserve 
it.  A  word  uttered  against  his  good  name  will  provoke  him 
to  the  drawing  of  his  cortarne^  and  spilling  the  blood  oi  tlie 
slanderer,  or  getting  his  own  let  in  return.  But  the  conflict 
will  be  carried  on  in  an  honourable  way — as  a  duel  between 
gentlemen — and  not  by  the  stealthy  stab  of  the  assassin,  or 
a  clumsy  encounter  between  peasants.  Nothing  could  be 
farther  from  a  peasant  than  he.  In  his  mien  there  is  nothing 
maladroii — no  taint  of  clownishness.  Despite  his  patois, 
his  small  house,  and  limited  belongings,  he  is  nearer  to  the 


M 

1:1 


262 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


idea  of  a  gentleman.  He  is  honest,  true  to  his  word,  and 
faithful  in  his  friendships.  It  is  not  out  of  his  ranks  that 
the  robbers  of  Mexico  are  recruited.  On  the  contrary, 
some  of  her  truest  patriots  and  best  fighting  partisans  have 
been  Jarochos,  as  from  old  experience  I  had  myself  reason 
to  know.  His  quality  in  this  line  has  been  since  tasted  by 
French  Zouaves  and  Turcos,  to  their  shameful  discomfiture. 

A   JAROCHO'S    OPINION    OF   THE    FRENCH. 

As  the  imperial  fiasco  had  lately  failed,  it  was  naturally 
the  subject  of  converse  between  my  new  travelling  com- 
panion and  myself  It  came  out  as  we  rode  onward,  being 
introduced  by  the  Jarocho  in  a  style  somewhat  safis  facon  as 
well  as  startling. 

"  Nor  dcconocio^^^  he  said,  resuming  speech  after  a  pause, 
"  you  tell  me  you  are  going  to  Santa  Fe." 

"  Santa  Fe  is  my  present  destination." 

"And  beyond?" 

*'  Oh,  far  beyond;  perhnps  all  over  Mexico." 

The  Jarocho  rose  up  in  his  stirrups,  and  threw  himseif 
into  an  attitude  peculiar  to  his  class — that  is,  resting  upon 
one  leg,  and  seated  sideways  in  the  saddle,  leaning  a  little 
over. 

^'' Carrambo  !^^  he  exclaimed,  after  scanning  me  from 
head  to  foot.  "All  over  Mexico!"  Then  transferring  his 
gaze  to  my  horse.,  he  continued — "  Miiy  Men  caballero^  thai 
will  be  a  long  journey  ;  but  your  andante  appears  equal  to 
it.  I  don't  think  I've  seen  a  handsomer  sample  of  horse- 
flesli  in  tief-ra  caliente.  Would  it  be  impolite  of  me  to 
inquire  where  you  came  across  him.?" 

"  In  Vera  Cruz,  of  course.     Why  do  you  ask?" 


mA 


A  ZIGZAG  JOURNEY   THROUGH    MEXICO. 


2O3 


I 


"  Oh,  nothing,  nor.  Only  when  I  see  a  good  horse  I 
am  curious  to  know  something  of  his  pedigree.  Yours  is  a 
beauty,  and  appears  worthy  of  descent  from  the  best  mare 
of  Mahomet." 

"  It  is  possible  he  may  be  so  ;  I  purchased  him  with  a 
warranty  of  pure  Arab  blood,  and  paid  price  accordingly." 

I  made  these  remarks  somewhat  mechanically,  for  my 
thoughts  were  not  about  the  horse.  They  were  engrossed 
by  the  singular  individual  who  was  questioning  me,  and 
who,  while  speaking  in  a  pronounced  patois,  was  at  the 
same  time  costumed  like  a  prince,  and  carrying  himself  like 
a  crusader. 

Had  it  been  my  first  visit  to  his  country,  I  might  have 
oeen  surprised  and  puzzled.  But  I  was  neither.  I  knew 
that  I  was  riding  alongside  a  Jarocho.  Without  making 
rejoinder  to  what  I  had  said,  he  continued  to  interrogate 
nie,  though  in  a  manner  at  which  I  could  not  feel  offended. 

"  Well,  caballero,"  he  said,  "  you  don't  look  much  like 
a  pedlar,  nor  yet  the  travelling  clerk  of  a  comercianie. 
Neither  should  I  take  you  for  a  speculator  in  mines.  Car- 
rambo  /  you  mystify  me,  when  you  talk  of  going  all  over 
Mexico.  Still  I  shall  not  be  so  rude  as  to  ask  you  \  our 
reasons ;  for,  although  wearing  our  national  costume — 
which,  by  the  way,  well  becomes  you — I  can  tell  you  to 
be  a  stranger." 

"  How  so  ;  does  my  bad  Spanish  betray  me  ?" 

"  On  the  contrary,  you  talk  it  too  well — too  much  like  a 
Gachupino.     And  yet  you  are  not  that,  either." 

''  Yo  soy  Irlandesy 

I  have  travelled  in  some  countries  where  it  might 
damage  a  man  to  proclaim  himself  an  Irisliman  ;  but  I 
knew  this  did  not  hold  good  of  Mexico,  and  therefore  t;an 


ir 


264 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


claim  no  credit  for  candour  in  having  made  known  my 
nationality. 

I  could  see  that  it  did  me  no  harm  in  the  eyes  of 
my  new-made  acquaintance.  On  the  contrary,  he  became 
more  respectfully  polite.  His  politeness  seemed  to  act 
as  a  curb  on  his  curiosity,  since  he  made  no  further 
attempt  to  question  me  as  to  the  motive  of  my  journey. 
For  all  this  I  could  see  that  he  was  keenly  desirous  of 
knowing  it.  I  had  no  reason  to  conceal  it,  and  said, 
"  My  object  in  travelling  through  your  country  is  because 
I  am  in  love  with  it.  I  believe  it  to  be  the  most 
beautiful  in  the  world,  and  wish  to  make  myself  better 
accjuainted  with  it." 

"  Gracias,  fior  f^  returned  the  Jarocho,  with  a  bow  that 
would  have  done  credit  to  a  courtier.  "  I'm  glad  you  have 
such  a  good  opinion  of  our  poor  Mexico,  and  hope  you'll 
enjoy  journeying  through  it.  Cospita  !  It  isn't  often  one 
meets  with  a  traveller  starting  on  such  an  extended  tour. 
And  you  intend  making  it  alone?" 

"  Not  quite  alone.  I  expect  to  pick  up  a  companion  at 
Santa  Fe — a  man  who  is  to  act  in  the  double  capacity  of 
guide  and  attendant." 

*'  Take  my  advice,  caballero,  and  choose  nn  Jiovihre  dehien 
— one  you  can  trust  to  be  fiiithfiil.  What  with  our  own 
misfortunes,  and  those  forced  upon  us  by  the  foreigner,  I'm 
sorry  to  say  the  roads  are  still  far  from  safe.  There's 
danger  in  the  journey  you  are  undertaking.  I  hope  you 
will  get  safely  to  the  end  of  it.  No  doubt,  before  leaving 
Vera  Cruz  you  burnt  a  goodly  number  of  candles  to  our 
Lady  of  Guadaloupe." 

"  Not  a  wick,"  was  my  reply,  made  laconic,  as  reproof  to 
the  superstition  that  had  olten  disgusted  me. 


A  ZIGZAG  JOURNEY   THROUGH    MEXICO. 


265 


*'  You  don't  believe  in  that  sort  of  thing,  then  ?"  inquired 
he,  with  an  evident  interest. 

*'  Certainly  not,"  I  said  in  answer;  "  on  the  contrary,  I 
regard  it  as  the  chief  curse  of  your  country." 

The  Jarocho  suddenly  checked  his  horse,  half  turning 
him  across  the  track,  grasping  as  he  did  the  hilt  of  the 
bright-bladed  weapon  that  lay  sheathless  along  the  saddle- 
flap. 

*'  Nor  decojioc'w^''  he  said,  whipping  it  from  under  his 
thigh,  and  handling  it  carte  and  tierce,  "  you  see  that 
cortartie  V^ 

"  Certainly,"  I  stammered  out,  taken  by  surprise,  and,  in 
the  full  belief  I  should  have  to  defend  myself,  groping  for 
my  pistol-holster ;  "  certainly  I  see  it :  for  what  do  you  put 
the  question?" 

"  To  tell  you  that  I  have  buried  that  blade  in  the  breast 
of  more  than  one  Frenchman.  And  why  ?  Because  they 
came  here  to  fix  the  curse  you  speak  of  more  firmly  upon 
us.  They  came  to  rivet  the  chain — ay  Dios  ! — tight  enough 
before.  But  we've  broken  it,  and  are  free ;  while  they — 
handidos  y  cohardes  (bandits  and  cowards) — were  but  too 
glad  to  escape,  leaving  that  poor  scapegoat  of  an  emperor 
to  pay  the  reckoning  they  had  run  up.  Yes,  caballero,  it 
was  as  I  tell  you.  But  for  Maximiliano  and  his  Austrians 
occupying  our  troops  at  the  capital,  the  French  jackals 
would  never  have  left  Vera  Cruz  alive.  As  it  was,  they 
took  with  them  but  little  of  the  plunder  they  had  collected 
in  the  campaign,  and  less  glory.  Sangre  de  Christo  I  what 
a  pity  it  was  to  let  them  escape  with  whole  skins  !" 

Long  before  the  Jarocho  had  finished  his  diatribe,  my 
hand  had  ceased  searching  for  the  butt  of  my  revolver.  I 
was  glad  that  my  serap^^  draping  down  over  the  saddle-bow, 


\-"V\ 


Ki\i,-i,'TSTXfm^aB 


266 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


concealed  the  movement.  I  should  have  been  sorry  to 
show  myself  suspicious  of  a  man  capable  of  giving  expression 
to  such  patriotic  sentiments.  They  were  not  so  far  different 
from  my  own,  and  I  told  him  so. 

The  unison  of  our  thoughts  seemed  to  tranquillise  the 
storm  that  had  so  suddenly  sprung  up  in  his  mind,  and, 
replacing  the  machete  under  his  thigh,  he  rode  on  calmly  as 
before.  I  followed,  reflecting,  and  with  increased  respect 
for  the  man  so  unexpectedly  met.  I  could  not  help  this,  in 
view  of  his  patriotism.  As  I've  said,  it  was  not  my  first 
experience  of  this  on  the  part  of  his  people.  I  remembered 
how,  twenty  years  before,  under  their  famed  chief  Jarauta — 
the  Padre  Jarauta — they  had  held  the  ground  against  the 
Americans  in  guerilla  warfare  long  after  the  Mexican  regular 
army  had  succumbed.  I  remembered  how,  at  San  Juan  de 
Teotihuacan,  almost  withm  sight  of  the  famed  Aztecan  feocalii, 
we  had  stolen  a  march  on  Jarauta  and  his  guerrilleros — 
attacked  them  just  at  daybreak,  as  they  were  watering  their 
horses,  at  the  town  stream,  and  routed  them,  shooting  down 
over  a  hundred  of  their  number  with  Colt's  revolving  pistols 
— the  first  time  this  noiv  famous  7veapoti  was  ever  used  i?i  war. 

I  did  not  relate  this  circumstance  to  him  who  was  riding 
by  side ;  but  permitted  him  to  continue  his  conversation 
about  the  later  invaders  of  his  country ;  of  whom  history 
has  yet  to  give  an  account  that  will  be  far  from  creditable 
to  them. 

A   SOUVENIR   OF   "  LEX   TALIONIS.'* 


As  if  to  rebuke  me  for  blaming  them,  almost  at  that 
moment  came  before  my  eyes  an  object  fraught  with  painful 
memory  to  myself,  and  something  like  shame  to  my  own 
old  comrades  in  arms. 


1 


A   ZIGZAG   JOURNEY   THROUGH    MEXICO. 


267 


♦  After  riding  some  time  under  the  trees,  we  had  come 
within  sight  of  an  open  savanna.  I  recognised  the  Httle 
prairie  of  Santa  Fe,  beyond  which  hes  the  puebdta  of  the 
same  name.  Standing  in  the  plain,  far  out  from  the  forest 
edge,  was  a  soHtary  rancho,  or  log-house,  with  an  attached 
shed  and  corral  for  the  enclosing  of  cattle.  This,  too,  I 
recognised.  It  was  all  classic  ground  to  me,  especially  that 
surrounding  the  lonely  cabin.  It  was  not  a  dwelling,  but 
a  slaughter-house — a  place  for  butchering  beef  to  supply  the 
market  of  Vera  Cruz.  Once,  upon  a  scouting  reconnaissance 
by  moonlight,  I  remembered  crouching  up  to,  and  entering 
it,  with  the  caution  observed  by  scouts.  We  found  the 
place  deserted,  abandoned  by  the  butchers ;  who,  in  all 
likelihood,  were  enrolled  in  the  guerrilla  against  which  we 
were  acting.  Just  outside  the  enclosure  lay  a  corpse,  by 
the  fragments  of  uniform  still  adhering  to  it  recognisable 
as  that  of  an  American  soldier.  Though  fearfully  disfigured 
by  mutilation — one  arm  chopped  off,  and  crosses  cut 
in  the  soles  of  the  feet — there  was  enough  of  the  face  left 
untouched  to  enable  us  to  identify  a  comrade.  The  eyes 
were  open,  with  eyeballs  protruding,  glassy,  and  glaring 
upon  the  moon.  It  was  a  sample  of  the  lex  talionis,  and  I 
was  acquainted  with  its  first  act.  The  amputated  arm  was 
a  key  to  it ;  and  a  soldier  of  my  own  corps  had  been  the 
cause.  Some  days  before,  a  wicked  wretch  who  wore 
our  uniform  had  discharged  his  gun  at  a  harmless  wood- 
chopper  encountered  by  the  wayside,  cutting  some  sticks 
from  a  hedge.  The  shot  was  firctl  in  sheer  wantonness, 
as  one  shoots  at  a  bird  one  does  not  care  to  gather  into 
the  game-bag.  The  bullet  broke  the  man's  arm,  and 
amputation  became  necessary,  tliough  this  did  not  save 
his  life.     The   heartlessness  of  the  deed  provoked  retalia- 


'I 


rvwfimmmm 


Ml 


i  I 


268 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


tion,  and  the  corpse  we  came  upon  was  one  of  its  con- 
sequences. 

There  were  other  acts  of  a  sunilar  kind  durhig  the 
American-Mexican  war;  but  they  were  few — might  be 
accounted  as  nothing,  compared  with  what  occurred  during 
the  Franco-Austrian  occupation.  The  former,  I  hesitate 
not  to  say,  was  conducted,  on  the  American  side,  in  a 
manner  never  before  exempHfied  by  an  invading  army.  It 
was  truly  civiHsed  warfare — humane — if  such  a  term  may 
be  admitted  into  the  vocabulary  of  war.  The  latter  was 
the  very  opposite,  more  especially  in  the  campaigns  carried 
on  by  the  French.  Indeed,  the  Austrians  acted  only  in  a 
sort  of  subsidiary  manner,  the  French  commander-in-chief, 
who  drew  his  inspiration  from  the  Tuileries,  being  in  truth 
the  master  of  Maximilian ;  and  as  such  is  he  to  be  held 
accountable,  not  only  for  the  decree  which  afterwards  cost 
the  unfortunate  emperor  his  life,  but  for  the  behaviour  of 
the  French  troops,  wlio,  in  their  inhuman  treatment  of  the 
Mexican  people — in  acts  of  absolute  ferocity — far  eclipsed 
Cortez  and  his  conquistadores. 

So  thought  the  Jarocho,  and  said  it,  and  so  thought  I. 
To  confirm  me,  I  did  not  stand  in  need  of  any  fresh  in- 
formation from  him.  In  Vera  Cruz,  I  had  heard  the  same 
story  from  Don  Hiiario,  and  others — corroborated  in  all  its 
atrocious  details.  v 

A    SINGULAR    BIRD. 


The  subject  was  painful,  and  I  was  glad  to  turn  from  it 
to  themes  of  a  more  pacific  character.  A  slight  incident 
diverted  my  thoughts,  as  also  those  of  the  Jarocho.  A  bird 
sprang  up  from  the  path,  and  with  a  scream  winged  its  way 


A  ZIGZAG  JOURNEY  THROUGH  MEXICO. 


269 


along  the  selvage  of  the  forest.  It  was  just  as  we  caught 
sight  of  the  savanna.  The  bird  was  of  large  size,  and 
sombre  colour,  kite-shaped,  and  sharp-winged,  with  the 
flight  peculiar  to  the  Falconiche,  It  was  its  cry  that  more 
particularly  drew  my  attention,  as  also  that  of  my  companion. 
This  was  like  the  dissyllable  hua-co,  several  times  repeated, 
quickly  and  in  choking  tone — as  is  sometimes  heard  from 
the  cuckoo — but  ending  in  a  prolonged  screech. 

"  The  pajaro  vaqiiero'^  (shepherd-bird),  said  the  Jarocho, 
pointing  to  it,  as  it  flew  off. 

I  knew  and  recognised  it,  though  by  a  different  name. 
It  was  the  celebrated  guaco-bird  of  South  America,  made 
famous  by  the  Spanish  botanist,  Mutis,  in  describing  the 
parasitical  plant,  Mikania  guaco — one  of  the  most  efficient 
antidotes  to  the  bite  of  a  venomous  serpent.  The  bird 
itself  is  a  hawk ;  but  instead  of  preying  on  other  birds,  it 
has  a  stronger  proj^ensity  for  feeding  upon  reptiles,  and  more 
especially  serpents.  In  America  it  fills  the  place  occupied 
by  the  "  secretary  bird"  in  Africa  and  India,  performing 
the  same  office — the  killing  and  devouring  of  snakes.  It 
is  not  necessary  to  repeat  the  tale  told  by  Mutis — of 
its  guarding  itself  against  the  effects  of  a  chance  bite,  by 
inoculating  its  blood  with  the  juice  of  the  Mikania. 
Enough  to  say  that  I  have  myself  seen  sufficient  to  confirm 
the  truth  of  the  story — strange  as  it  may  appear.  After  all, 
it  is  not  stranger  than  the  well-known  fact  of  dogs  and  foxes 
'^  going  to  grass." 

"Hear  how  it  screams!"  said  the  Jarocho.  "Just 
as  I  told  you — a  sure  sign  we  were  to  have  a  norie^ 
and  you  see  we  have  it !  I  can  tell  why  it  cries  so,"  he 
continued. 

**  Why  ? "  I  asked,  my  interest  in   the  bird,   long  ago 


270 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


begot  by  reading  the  descrii)tion  of  the  Spanir/u  botanist, 
now  vividly  reviving  ;  "  why  ?" 

"  Because  the  cold  of  the  norte  sends  the  snakes  into 
their  holes  and  coverts,  where  the  vaquero  can't  get  at  them. 
No  wonder  it  should  make  lamentation,  deprived  of  its 
daily  and  natural  food." 

I  bowed  to  the  explanation  of  the  Jarocho.  It  was  a 
chapter  of  natural  history  that  was  new  to  me. 

THROUGH   THE   TROPICAL    FOREST. 


il 


The  road  to  Santa  Fe  runs  direct  across  the  savanna. 
Riding  ahead  of  the  stranger,  I  spurred  out  into  the  open, 
and  for  the  first  time  felt  the  real  chilliness  of  the  norther. 
As  yet  there  was  no  rain,  but  the  wind,  icy  cold,  was  sweep- 
ing along  with  tempest-strength,  carrying  with  it  the  leaves 
and  branches  of  trees  plucked  off  as  it  passed  them.  It 
was  with  difficulty  I  could  retain  my  seat  in  the  saddle. 
Even  my  horse  had  a  struggle  to  keep  his  feet ;  and  quickly 
wrenching  him  about,  I  rode  back  under  the  shelter  of  the 
forest. 

"Follow  me!"  said  the  Jarocho,  smiling  at  my  discom- 
fiture, and  striking  off  into  a  side  path.  "  We  can  get  to 
Santa  Fe  this  way.  It  will  make  our  journey  a  little  longer, 
but  we  shall  be  less  discommoded  by  the  storm ;  and  if  the 
rain  should  come  on,  I  know  dijacal  where  we  can  get  shelter, 
and  pass  half  an  hour  agreeably  enough,  if  you  are  fond  of 
say,  Tior,  do  you  like  to  look  at  a  pretty  girl?" 

I  could  not  help  smiling  at  the  question  so  naively  asked. 
Both  it,  and  the  style  in  which  it  was  put,  were  pure  Jarocho. 

"  I  fancy  there  are  but  few  men  who  would  answer  you 
in  the  negative,"  was  my  roply. 


I    i 


I 


I 


VEGETATION    ON    THE   LAUUNA. 


''i^mm!mmmm9m 


A  ZIGZAG  JOURNEY   THROUGH    MEXICO. 


273 


^^  Biieno  r  he  exclaimed,  "  I  thouglit  as  much.  A  man 
who  gives  proof  of  good  taste  in  his  horse,  as  you,  caballcro, 
is  sure  to  have  an  eye  for  female  beauty.  Vou  shall  see 
Na  Rafaela  and  her  sister.  They  are  both  coi  sidered 
beyond  the  common,  but  Rafaelita,  ah !  she  is  fair  as  the 
fIoriJ>undio" 

*'  I  hope  she  resembles  that  flower  only  in  the  quality  of 
its  beauty." 

My  allusion  was  to  the  dangerous  properties  of  the 
Datura  grandijlora — \X\q  floripundio  of  my  fellow-traveller's 
comparison. 

It  was  at  once  understood  by  him  ;  and  I  flmcied  that 
some  reflection  gave  him  pain.  If  so,  he  made  an  efl"ort  to 
conceal  it,  saying  in  rejoinder,  "  Na  Rafaela  is  an  angel, 
pure  as  the  snow  of  Orizava." 

After  this  we  were  silent,  riding  on  through  the  thick  of 
the  forest.  Indeed  for  a  time  conversation  would  have  been 
difficult,  as  the  path  no  longer  permitted  our  going  abreast. 
There  was  scant  bre;'dth  for  a  single  horseman,  the  branches 
brushing  against  our  limbs,  as  we  squeezed  through  between 
trees  loaded  \  'th  para>itical  plants.  Here  and  there  we 
had  to  duck  our  heads  to  avoid  the  overarching  boughs, 
with  their  thick  festoonery  of  epiphytes — especially  when 
the  Dolkhos  ;ruricns  flung  its  stinging  garlands  across  the 
path.  We  had  to  avoid  also  beau  iful,  but  hmmng,  Jatrophas 
of  two  distinct  species,  as  also  the  poisonous  sumach  [lihiis 
radicafts),  and  other  noxious  plants,  that  formed  the  woof 
of  the  grand  vegetable  web  spreading  on  both  sides  of  us. 
Above  too;  for  we  were  no  longer  travelling  with  the  blue 
sky  overhead,  but  under  a  canopy  of  verdure — a  true  "orest 
arcade — at  all  times  shady,  but  now  unusually  obscured  by 
the  norther. 


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IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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11.25 


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Plioiograpliic 

Sdetices 

Corporation 


23  WCST  MAIN  STRiET 

WiBSTER.N.Y.  14SS0 

(716)872-4503 


11 


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274 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


Despite  the  sombre  light,  I  could  distinguish  many  fair 
vegetable  forms  :  among  them  slender  Cvesalpinias  shooting 
up  through  the  green  clustering  curtains,  with  here  and 
there  the  straight  stem  of  a  palm-tree,  or  Cecropia, 
like  rods  intended  to  support  them ;  while  pendant  pin- 
natifid  leaves  of  bright  yellowish-green  proclaimed  the 
Leguininoscce.  in  countless  genera  and  species — in  trees 
as  Robinia  and  Tamai'indus — in  parasites  as  the  Ingas  and 
Bauhlnias. 

Magnificent  OrcJddcc  touched  our  cheeks — in  flower, 
though  it  was  midwinter  in  nortliern  climes — several  Epi- 
dcndrcce^  among  them  the  splendid  Epidendrum  Cavendishii 
— their  fragrance,  along  with  the  chill  breatli  of  the  iiorte^ 
for  the  time  rendering  imperceptible  the  mephitic  odour  of 
the  skunk,  which  too  often  pervades  the  forests  of  the  Vera 
Cruz  coast-land. 

For  a  full  half-hour  I  followed  my  Jarocho  guide,  under 
the  archway  of  sombre  green.  Our  progress  was  slow, 
impeded  by  water  "  splashes  "  that  here  and  there  crossed 
the  path.  In  the  coast-lands  of  Vera  Cruz,  there  is  much 
stagnant  water ;  slow-flowing  rivulets,  with  here  and  there  a 
lagima.  The  Gulf  Stream  will  account  for  this  sluggishness 
on  the  part  of  the  outflowing  rivers.  By  opposing  to  their 
effiux  the  barrier  of  sand-dunes,  already  spoken  of,  it  causes 
them  to  espouse  the  ocean  with  reluctance.  Here  and  there 
they  break  through  it,  as  at  Antigua,  the  Boco  del  Rio  of 
Jamapa,  and  the  Gulf  or  Lake  of  Alvarado ;  but  else- 
where they  meet  obstruction,  and  crawl  slowly  along, 
creating  in  their  track  a  belt  of  beautiful  vegetation — 
beautiful  to  the  eye,  but  dangerous  to  the  health,  and  too 
often  deadly. 

Man  alone  seems  to  suffer  from  this  exuberance.     To 


m 


A   ZIGZAG   JOURNEY   THROUGH    MEXICO. 


275 


the  animal  world,  as  to  the  vegetable,  it  appears  congenial. 
I  could  not  help  thinking  so,  as  our  path,  debouching  from 
the  thicket  of  leafy  shrubs,  trended  for  a  time  along  the 
edge  of  a  lagoon.  A  stream  ran  through  it,  but  so  slowly 
that  the  water  was  well-nigh  stagnant.  Broad  green  leaves 
lay  spread  upon  its  surface,  among  which,  by  their  heart- 
shaped  and  azure-blue  flowers,  I  could  distinguish  the  Pon- 
tederia  cordata,  and  nearer  to  the  shore  die  grand  blades  of 
the  Fothos,  and  several  species  of  Aroidcce,  whose  shining 
velvety  surface  contrasted  with  the  rough  dark  tree-trunks 
rising  beyond,  and  the  still  darker  forest  aisles,  over  which 
the  trailing  epiphytes  formed  a  screen,  at  all  times  impene- 
trable to  the  sun. 

Regardless  of  the  norther,  which  only  raged  high  above 
their  heads,  water  and  wading  birds  were  disporting  them- 
selves in  the  lagoon,  or  standing  meditative  on  its  shores. 
Solemn-looking  cranes,  and  the  grave  Tantalus  loculator, 
which  the  storm  had  for  a  time  silenced,  were  seen 
perched  upon  projecting  logs  ;  while  the  scarlet  ibis,  snow- 
white  herons,  roseate  spoonbills,  and  turquoise-coloured 
kingfishers  moved  over  the  water-surface  like  meteors, 
mingling  their  varied  hues  with  the  azure  blossoms  of  the 
lilies  and  the  brilliant  green  leaves  of  the  arums.  Overhead 
sat  the  osprey,  now  and  then  uttering  his  shrill  predatory 
cry,  watching  some  bird,  better  fisher  than  himself,  with  the 
design  to  rob  it  of  its  prey ;  while  over  the  cordate  discs  of 
the  water-lilies  lightly  tripped  that  singular  creature,  the 
spur-winged  jacana,  now  with  plumes  spread  to  support  it, 
like  some  fine  lady  in  quadrille  or  minuet ;  anon,  with  wings 
closed,  when  confident  in  the  support  of  the  lily  underneath ; 
but  continually  scrutinising  the  water,  lest  the  jaws  of  an 
alligator  might  be  gaping  too  near. 

s  2 


276^ 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


,  I 


li 


The  hideous  saurian  himself  might  be  seen  cunningly 
concealed  under  the  same  lily  leaves,  winking  his  great  watery 
eyes  while  awaiting  his  prey.  It  does  not  matter  to  him 
whether  it  be  a  scaly  fish  or  a  bird  of  bright  plumage.  If 
the  sombre-coloured  osprey  or  the  sky-blue  kingfisher,  mis- 
taking him  for  a  log  or  floating  tree,  darts  down  to  seize 
some  of  the  fimiy  tribe  swimming  contiguous  to  his  teeth, 
they  will  run  great  risk  of  being  themselves  made  captive,  and 
crushed  between  his  capacious  jaws.  It  was  such  a  tableau 
as  can  be  witnessed  only  in  the  tropical  forest — a  tableau  of 
wild  luxuriant  nature,  both  in  the  animal  and  vegetable 
world.  It  was  many  years  since  I  had  looked  on  the  like, 
and  I  could  have  long  lingered  in  contemplation.  But  my 
companion  was  impatient,  and  as  he  n-as  now  also  my  guide, 
I  was  forced  to  follow  him. 

We  must  have  ridden  for  more  than  an  hour  through  the 
thick  timber,  and  1  was  beginning  to  wonder  at  the  length 
of  the  road.  The  direct  one  to  Santa  Fe  could  not  have 
been  half  the  distance  we  had  traversed  since  leaving  the 
savanna.  I  might  have  suspected  my  companion  of  some 
sinister  design,  and  that  instead  of  an  interview  with  the 
beautiful  Na  Rafaelita  and  her  almost  equally  beautiful 
sister,  I  should  find  myself  in  the  midst  of  a  gavilla  of 
saltcadores.  But  I  knew  it  was  not  the  neighbourhood  for 
highway  robbers.  My  travelling  companion  might  be  a 
contrabaiidista,  but  that  could  give  me  no  fear.  There  was 
a  loyal  look  about  him  that  checked  all  tendency  to  appre- 
hension. I  only  wondered  why  he  was  taking  me  so  much 
out  of  the  way. 

When  I  saw  Na  Rafaela  and  her  sister — which  I  soon 
after  did — my  wondering  came  to  an  end.  The  sight  of 
either  was  worth  the  roundabout  ride. 


>l    . 


1 


.i 
If. 

111 


m 


Ji, 


WA   RAFAELITA. 


A   ZIGZAG   JOURNEY   THROUGH    MEXICO.  279 


SUNSHINE   AFTER    SHADOW. 

While  we  were  riding  through  the  forest,  the  norte,  as 
it  sometimes  does,  had  suddenly  ceased,  or  perhai)s  ])assed 
off  seaward.  Its  edge  is  sometimes  sharply  defined,  as  that 
of  cyclone,  typhoon,  or  tornado.  We  had  ridden  out  of 
it,  and  back  again  into  bright  sunshine,  leaving  both  the 
clouded  sky  and  forest  shadows  behind  us.  The  dwelling 
of  Na  Rafaela's  father  stood  in  the  open  savanna,  close  by 
the  timber's  edge ;  but  before  reaching  it  we  came  upon  a 
portion  of  the  family — the  younger  members  of  it — passing 
the  time  al  fresco^  after  the  true  far  nicntc  fashion  of  the 
tropics. 

So  flir  from  the  Jarocho  having  exaggerated  the  charms 
of  Na  Rafaela  and  her  sister,  he  had  rather  underrated 
them.  Neither  the  symbol  of  Xh^floripundio^  nor  any  other 
blossom  of  the  tropical  flora,  could  flatter  such  beauty  as 
theirs. 

In  all  there  was  a  family  of  five — father,  mother,  the  two 
sisters,  and  a  boy-brother.  Like  my  fellow-traveller,  they 
were  of  the  pure  Jarocho  race,  with  all  its  gypsy  charac- 
teristics. The  attitude  in  which  I  first  saw  the  family  group 
forcibly  recalled  the  gitanos. 

The  girls  were  dressed  in  white  cotton  garments,  that 
hung  loosely  around  them.  It  was  rather  a  deshabille  be- 
fitting the  hot  weather.  For  all  this  they  did  not  start  at 
the  sight  of  strangers,  but  received  us  with  as  much  grace 
as  would  a  fine  lady  in  her  drawing-room,  and  with  equal 
insouciance. 

I  could  very  easily  perceive  that  my  companion  wished 
to  have  a  word  with  Na  Rafaela ;  and  in  gratitude  for  his 


2C0 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


■ '^ 


:'i: 


'  li 


having  guided  me  I  gave  him  thj  chance — by  preceding 
him  towards  the  house  in  the  company  of  her  brother  and 
sister. 

Chancing  to  look  back,  I  saw  something  like  a  piece  of 
paper  slipped  into  Rafaela's  hand;  perhaps  a  billd-donx ; 
and  it  might  be  in  verse — for  the  Jarocho  is  a  born  poet. 

The  father  and  mother,  who  had  gone  out  for  a  stroll, 
seeing  us,  turned  back,  and  we  became  the  recipients  of 
their  hospitality.  We  were  asked  to  eat,  and  the  girls  made 
a  show  of  setting  about  the  baking  of  tortillas ;  but  Don 
Hermengildo — I  had  ascertained  this  grand  name  to  be  that 
of  my  fellow-traveller — declined  eating,  on  the  plea  that  we 
were  pressed  for  time.  He  had  transacted  his  little  affair, 
whatever  it  was,  with  Rafaelita,  and  did  not  desire  to  stay 
longer  by  her  side. 

We  did  not  refuse  a  capita  of  Catalan  brandy,  after 
drinking  which,  we  lighted  our  cigarritos^  remounted,  and 
rode  out  upon  the  savanna. 

While  taking  the  stirrup-cup  I  noticed  that  Na  Rafaela 
was  missing  from  the  family  group.  She  had  gone  away 
from  the  house  carrying  a  vessel  of  crockery-ware  upon  her 
head,  as  if  on  some  domestic  errand.  She  had  so  managed  it 
that  we  passed  her  on  the  way,  my  companion  once  more 
exchanging  a  whispered  salutation.  She  was  dressed  as 
when  first  seen,  but  with  the  dress  differently  draped  ;  while 
around  her  neck  was  a  string  of  amber  beads  I  had  not 
noticed  before.  They  looked  as  if  freshly  taken  out  of 
their  case.  Perhaps  it  was  this  Don  Hermengildo  had  given 
her,  instead  of  a  carlita. 

As  she  stopped  to  bid  adios  on  our  passing  her,  I 
thought  that  the  pose  was  perfect,  as  also  the  figure  of  the 
girl.     Both  were  classic  as  Athens  itself  could  have  produced 


A  ZIGZAG   JOURNEY   THROUGH    MEXICO. 


281 


in  its  pn.lmiest  days ;  and  T  could  not  help  thinking  that  a 
sculptor  or  painter  would  have  given  much  for  such  a 
model.  It  was  easy  to  tell  that  my  companion  would  have 
almost  given  his  life  to  be  assured  in  the  possession  of  her* 
heart ;  but  not  so  easy  to  say  whether  he  had  secured  it. 
As  the  whisper  passed  between  them  at  parting,  the  glance 
of  her  eye  spoke  something  like  gratitude — perhaps  for  the 
amber  beads.  It  was  too  like  gratitude ;  and,  as  we  rode 
away,  I  could  not  help  fancymg  that  in  Na  Rafaela  there 
was  something  of  the  nature  of  the  flower  to  which  her 
lover  had  compared  her,  the  datura — something  to  be 
dreaded. 

A  like  fancy  appeared  to  have  taken  possession  of  my 
fellow-traveller,  causing  him  dejection.  After  a  time,  how- 
ever, he  rallied,  breaking  the  silence  that  had  succeeded  the 
leave-taking  with  his  sweetheart. 

"  Alabo  a  Dlos  /"  he  said.  "  What  a  lucky  thing  the 
norte  has  passed  ofif  so  soon.  It  would  have  spoiled  every- 
thing, had  it  lasted  till  to  morrow." 

"Spoiled  what?"  I  asked. 

"What!"  exclaimed  the  Jarocho,  repeating  the  word 
with  a  look  of  astonishment.  "  Surely,  nor,  you  know  that 
to-morrow  there's  2i  fiesta  at  Cacahuatl ;  the  grandest  they've 
had  this  year.  There's  to  be  a  coleo  dr.  toros,  and  no  end  of 
cocks  to  be  fought.  After  that,  in  the  evening,  a  fandango. 
Rafaelita  and  her  sister  will  be  there.  While  about  it,  let 
me  confess  the  truth  :  it  was  to  see  them,  not  to  escape  the 
norte,  I  brought  you  so  far  out  of  your  way.  In  return  for 
thus  misleading  you,  may  I  ask  you  to  accept  my  hospi- 
tality— if  you  are  not  sure  of  a  better  shelter  ?  The  7neson 
at  Santa  Fe  is  but  a  poor  one.  So  too  is  my  humble y^^rt/y 
though  I  can  promise  you  plenty  to  eat,  and  a  welcome." 


282 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


I  might  have  refused  the  offer  tlius  courteously  extended, 
and  perhaps  would  have  done  so,  had  it  not  been  to  my  mind. 
But  it  was,  perfectly  and  pointedly — in  short,  the  very  thing 
I  was  in  search  of :  information  connected  with  the  habits 
and  customs  of  the  country — spiced  with  a  dash  of  adventure. 
Here  were  both  to  be  offered  to  me,  in  their  purest  and  most 
characteristic  types.  K fiesta^  with  its  varied  sports — em- 
bracing a  number  of  the  nation's  pastimes,  and  exhibiting 
its  costumes — to  say  nothing  of  once  more  beholding  Na 
Rafaela  !  Need  I  say  that  I  accepted  the  invitation  of  the 
Jarocho  ? 

A   TOWN   TAKING   SIESTA. 


■ 


'  1 3 


Another  half- hour's  ride  brought  us  within  sight  of  Santa 
Fe.  Don  Hermengildo  did  not  live  in  the  village,  but 
some  distance  beyond,  l^mjacal^  as  he  informed  me,  stood 
r  olitary  in  the  "forest,  a  mile  or  more  from  the  public  road. 
"  En  el  monte^^  were  his  words.  As  there  was  no  mountain 
near,  I  might  have  been  puzzled  by  the  phrase,  and  fancied 
there  was  still  a  long  ride  before  us.  But  I  understood  the 
misnomer  peculiar  to  Spanish  America,  and  that  montc 
is  a  forest,  and  not  a  mountain !  Misled  by  the  name, 
geographers  have  placed  mountain  raniijes  upon  tlieir  maps, 
where  there  is  only  tree-covered  champaign.  The  great 
timbered  tract  of  the  Amazonian  valley  is  known  to  the 
dwellers  upon  the  Andes  as  La  Montana;  \A\\\c  those 
mountains  themselves  are  called  sierras  and  Cordilleras. 

As  we  passed  through  the  pucbiita  it  was  early  afternoon. 
This  being  the  hour  of  siesta  not  a  soul  was  stirring  in  the 
streets.  The  sun  was  clear  again,  and  scorchingly  hot 
Pariah-looking  dogs  lay  panting  in  the  shadow  of  walls  ;  and 
black  vultures  ( Cathartes  atratus)  sat  perched  upon  parapets, 


A   ZIGZAG   JOURNKY    THROUGH   MEXICO. 


283 


holding  their  wings  wide  open,  to  catch  wliatover  coohiess 
miglit  l)c  wafled  towards  them  by  the  sli-hlly  stirring  air. 

The  atmosphere  seems  hotter  after  a  norie  than  l)efore  it. 
Perhajjs  it  is  our  sensations  that  deceive  us,  contradicting 
the  thermometer.  It  is  as  when  one  ceases  fanning  oneself. 
An  Anglo-Indian  in  the  act  of  being  cooled  by  the  punkah, 
when  the  servant  pulling  the  rope  has  been  suddenly  called 
off,  will  comprehend  this. 

An  odd  villager  here  and  there  seated  by  his  door,  or 
suspended  in  a  hammock,  with  a  group  in  front  of  what 
appeared  to  be  the  principal  ticnda^  or  shop,  of  the  place, 
were  all  the  Santa  Fcanos  to  be  seen.  I'wo  or  three  horses, 
carrying  the  huge  Mexican  high  tree-saddle,  with  its  carved 
wooden  stirrups  and  stamped  leather  furnishings,  stood  near. 
The  saddles  were  empty,  but  in  the  group  by  the  shop  door 
were  men  with  heavy  spurs  on  their  heels,  showing  to  whom 
the  horses  appertained.  One  of  these,  like  my  travelling 
companion,  wore  the  manga — only  that  his  was  of  bright 
sky-blue  colour,  whereas  that  of  Don  Hermengildo  was 
purple.     The  others  had  serapcs. 


m\ 


iU. 


THE  SERAPE,  FREZADA,  PONCHO,  COBIJA,  AND  MANGA. 

It  may  be  worth  while  to  say  a  word  about  the  several 
kinds  of  garments — one  or  more  of  them  peculiar  to  all 
parts  of  Spanish  America.  The  scrape  has  been  described 
by  almost  every  traveller  in  Mexico  j  the  manga  only  men- 
tioned. The  former  is  seen  everywhere  ;  the  latter  only  on 
rare  occasions.  Whether  in  the  hot  tierra  caliente,  the 
cooler  region  of  the  tierra  tcmplada^  or  the  still  colder  ciime 
of  the  tierra  fria,  there  is  no  Mexican  io  poor  as  not  to  be 
possessed  of  a  scrape^  and  none  so  rich  as  to  disdain  wear- 


rs^i 


284 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


S 


it  I 


ing  this  trii'y  national  article  of  dress.  The  city  merchant 
may  loungj  about  the  streets  in  his  capa^  which  is  simply  a 
broadcloth  cloak ;  but  whenever  he  makes  a  journey  into 
the  country  he  must  needs  avail  himself  of  the  more  con- 
venient scrape.  His  wardrobe  would  not  be  complete  without 
one.  The  wealthy  hacicndacfo  usually  rides  al)out  with  it, 
either  hanging  over  his  shoulders,  or  strapped  to  the  croup 
of  his  saddle ;  while  the  ranchero  is  never  seen  without  a 
serape.  Even  the  lepcro — the*  lazzarone  of  the  towns — is 
possessed  of  one,  or  its  coarser  representative  the  frezada. 
To  the  others  it  is  only  a  cloak  or  overcoat ;  to  him  it  is 
coat,  jacket,  even  shirt,  for  the  lepcro  may  be  frequently 
observed  without  the  under  garment. 

The  scrape  is  made  of  a  quality  and  at  a  price  to  suit 
all  ranks  of  wearers.  Tlie  cheaper  kind,  Q,di}\Q^  frezada^  can 
be  purchased  for  less  than  ten  shillings  ;  while  a  first-class 
serape  of  Saltillo  or  San  Miguel  del  Grande — the  places 
most  noted  for  the  manufacture — will  cost  twenty-five 
guineas  !  An  unpractised  eye,  viewing  both  from  a  distance, 
would  see  little  difference  between  them.  Both  are  about 
the  size  and  shape  of  an  orviinary  blanket,  or  a  dining-table 
intended  for  six  persons.  They  are  woven  of  wool,  usually 
of  a  white  ground,  with  patterns  of  red,  black,  blue,  yellow, 
and  green.  These  differ  in  design,  though  there  is  a  general 
resemblance  in  all.  In  fact,  there  is  an  idiosyncrasy  in  the 
patterns  of  the  serape.  They  are  not  flowers,  nor  yet  checks, 
nor  exactly  of  a  striped  arrangement,  though  uniform  parallel 
bands  of  colour  may  be  seen  in  certain  districts,  as  in  the 
serape  of  the  Navajo  Indians — a  prized  and  costly  kind. 
The  pattern-work  most  in  vogue  bears  some  resemblance  to 
the  bordering  known  as  grecque ;  though  differing  from  this  by 
the  lines  of  colour  meeting  each  other  at  acute  instead  of  right 


A   ZIGZAG   JOURNKY   THROUGH    MEXICO. 


2S5 


angles.  Any  one  who  has  noticed  the  zigzag  ornamentation 
on  old  Mexican  pottery — the  lost  art  of  the  Aztecs — will 
have  a  clear  comprehension  of  the  designs  usually  seen  u|^on 
a  modern  Mexican  scrape.  IJoth  have  evidently  sprung 
from  the  same  mental  fount,  and  are  the  product  of  the 
same  intellectual  process.  Clearly  the  scnipii  is  "ot  Spanish, 
but  Aztecan — perhaps  Toltecan. 

Every  one  who  has  read  a  book  of  Mexican  travels 
knows  that  the  scrape  has  a  slit  in  the  centre,  through  which 
the  head  is  passed,  leaving  the  garment  to  drape  down  over 
the  shoulders,  loosely  like  a  cape,  and  so  protecting  the 
person  from  rain.  The  rain  is  thrown  oft'  even  by  the 
cheaper  sorts,  unless  under  a  long-continued  pour  ;  but  the 
costlier  kinds  are  woven  waterproof — as  cloth  of  caout- 
chouc preparation  for  example. 

The  manga  difters  from  any  kind  of  scrape.  It  is  made 
of  broadcloth,  very  fine,  and  uniform  in  colour — which  is 
sometimes  of  the  gayest,  as  sky-blue,  scarlet,  and  purple.  Its 
shape  is  a  circle,  with  an  embroidery  of  silk  braid,  velvet, 
gold  cord,  or  lace,  around  the  central  slit  through  which  the 
head  is  passed.  The  broidered  work  of  itself  forms  an 
inner  circle,  usually  extending  to  the  turn  of  the  shoulders. 

The  manga  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful,  as  also  the  most 
graceful,  of  garments;  and  a  Mexican  cavalier  with  one 
over  his  shoulders,  and  otherwise  dressed  tc  correspond, 
presents  a  costume  picture  not  easily  matched.  When  one 
side  is  thrown  up  towards  the  throat,  so  as  to  give  freedom 
to  the  arm,  and  the  skirt  falls  low  on  the  opposite  side,  the 
draping  is  as  graceful  as  that  of  a  Roman  toga. 

The  poncho  of  South  America  difters  from  the  Mexican 
scrape,  both  in  texture  and  arrangement  of  colours ;  and  it 
may  be  further  stated  that  the  garment  of  this  name  worn 


t 


286 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


ml 


by  the  Guachoof  the/^rw/^jhas  some  points  of  dissimilarity 
to  that  which  covers  the  shoulders  of  the  ChiHan  "  Guaso." 
The  central  slit  in  the  Guacho  blanket  is  diagonal  to  the 
line  of  the  sides,  while  that  of  the  Giiaso,  as  also  the 
Mexican  serape,  is  parallel — of  course  causing  a  different 
arrangement  in  the  hang  of  the  edges  and  angles.  The 
codija  worn  by  the  Venezuelans  is  another  kind  of  poncho. 

THE  GLANCE  OF  THE  "  GREEN-EYED  MONSTER." 


ir  / 

It' .  ■ ' 


V  i 


My  companion  in  passing  the  group  of  idlers  was  saluted 
by  all,  except  the  man  in  the  sky-blue  manga.  I  might  have 
supposed  him  unacquainted  with  the  latter,  but  for  an 
exchanged  glance  which  told  that  they  knew  one  another, 
and  still  more,  that  there  was  some  unpleasantness  between 
them.  A  thought  came  uppermost  in  my  mind — a  beautiful 
face  was  recalled — that  of  Na  Rafaela;  might  it  be  the  cause? 
"  Who  is  he  with  the  sky-blue  manga  ?"  1  inquired,  as  we 
rode  onward. 

"His  name  is  Valdez.** 

The  Jarocho  gave  the  reply  with  a  gruff  curtness,  as  if 
not  over-satisfied  at  my  taking  notice  of  this  individual. 

"  Valdez,"  I  said,  remembering  this  to  be  the  name  of 
the  guide  recommended  by  Don  Hilario.  "Might  it  be 
the  Senor  Joaquin  Valdez  ?"  I  inquired  farther. 

"A  /epero  like  that  to  be  styled  senor,  would  be  doing 
him  too  much  honour.     His  name  is  Joaquin  Valdez." 

"  In  that  case,"  I  said,  without  heeding  the  remark, 
evidently  made  in  bitterness,  "  he  must  be  the  very  man  I 
am  in  search  of.  Is  there  any  other  of  the  name  around 
here  ?" 

"Not  that  I  know  of.'* 


A   ZIGZAG   JOURNEY   THROUGH    MEXICO. 


2S7 


I  drew  bridle,  half  resolved  to  go  back  and  make  Joaquin 
Valdez  acquainted  with  my  intentions  towards  him.  I  had 
a  letter  to  him  from  Don  Hilario,  of  whom  he  was  a  sort  of 
retainer — being  a  vaqucro  on  my  friend's  estate — a  large 
ganaderia,  or  cattle-run.  The  letter  contained  directions — 
almost  in  the  shape  of  commands — for  Valdez  to  act  as 
my  guide  and  travelling  attendant  so  far,  and  for  so  long,  as 
I  might  wish  to  avail  myself  of  his  services. 

I  was  hesitating  whether  to  return  and  perfect  the 
engagement,  or  leave  it  till  I  had  fulfilled  that  entered  into 
with  Don  Hermengildo. 

Six  words  from  the  Jarocho  decided  me.  They  were  in 
the  shape  of  a  proverb — a  mode  of  expressing  thought 
common  to  the  people  of  Spain,  and  equally  so  to  their 
Mexican  descendants.  ^^Caba/kro,  tm  clavo  saca  otro  davo"' 
(one  nail  drives  out  another),  he  said,  significantly  adding, 
"  Una  hora  un  amigo;  otra  otro"  (one  friend  at  a  time). 

I  understood  the  application,  once  more  loosened  rein, 
and  rode  on  by  the  side  of  Don  Hermengildo — leaving 
Valdez  to  be  looked  up  at  a  later  time. 

"  No  doubt  you'll  see  him  at  Cacahuatl  to-morrow," 
continued  the  Jarocho.  "Whether  he  be  able  to  accompany 
you  all  over  Mexico,  is  not  so  certain.  That  will  depend 
upon  circumstances." 

"  He  may  be  otherwise  engaged  ?*' 

''Qitien  saber 

This  phrase,  as  well  as  the  tone  in  which  it  was  spoken, 
told  that  my  travelling  companion  desired  to  close  the  con- 
versation— at  least,  upon  the  subject  of  Sefior  Valdez.  The 
man  in  the  sky-blue  manga  was  evidently  his  bete  fwir;  and 
it  was  almost  equally  evident  that  the  green-eyed  monster 
was  at  the  bottom  of  the  business. 


ill 


288 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


TWO   CLASSES   OF   HUMMING-BIRDS. 


.  I  forbore  pressing  for  an  explanation;  any  curiosity  I 
had  upon  the  subject  was  likely  to  be  satisfied  at  the  Jiesf a 
of  Cacahuatl.  Till  then  I  could  well  wait,  surrounded  by 
sublime  scenes  of  nature,  and  in  the  contemplation  of 
pictures  that  were  sufficient  to  enchain  and  absorb  the 
attention  of  the  most  indifferent  traveller.  The  scenes  were 
continually  changing,  while  vying  with  each  other  in  grandeur 
and  beauty. 

Soon  after  leaving  Santa  Fe  we  parted  from  the  public 
road,  and  once  more  plunged  into  the  tropical  forest.  We 
were  again  under  the  shadow  of  luxuriant  vegetation ;  the 
path  at  times  completely  arched  over  by  creeping  plants, 
and  only  passable  where  the  viacheie  had  been  at  work  to 
clear  space  sufficient  for  a  single  horseman.  Beyond  the 
edges  of  this  vegetable  arcade,  the  parasites  formed  an 
impenetrable  trellis-work,  where  only  lizards,  serpents,  or 
small  quadrupeds  like  the  zorrilla^  could  crawl  through. 
Even  the  large  Mexican  wolf  is  here  compelled  to  keep 
along  the  trails  made  by  tapirs,  or  straying  cattle. 

Sometimes  the  creeping  plants  trended  horizontally  from 
tree  to  tree ;  at  times  killing  the  standards  that  supported 
them,  as  if  jealous  of  other  foliage  spreading  above,  and 
spiteful  at  its  having  hindered  them  from  receiving  the  free 
full  kiss  of  the  sunlight.  Masses  of  Patdli7iias  and  Aristo- 
lochias  were  thus  arranged  ;  and  where  the  sun  poured  down 
upon  them  I  observed  swarms  of  humming-birds  flitting 
about  or  poised  on  whirring  wings  in  front  of  their  flowers. 
Although  otherwise  ignorant  enough  about  matters  of 
Mexican  natural  history,  my  companion  was   wonderfully 


A   ZIGZAG  JOURNEY   THROUGH   MEXICO. 


289 


observant.  In  a  conversation  about  these  birds  he  told 
me,  in  his  own  peculiar  way,  that  there  are  two  very  distinct 
classes  of  them— distinct  in  regard  to  their  food,  as  well  as 
general  habits ;  one  frequenting  foliage,  the  other  seeking 
its  food  in  flowers.  It  was  but  a  confirmation  of  the 
interesting  fact  discovered  and  first  made  known  to  science 
by  Mr.  Bates,  in  his  charming  work,  ''  The  Naturalist  on 
the  Amazons  " — a  v/ork  which  for  scientific  research,  I  here 
claim  permission  to  say,  is  not  surpassed  by  any  other, 
and  only  equalled  by  the  "South  American  Journey"  of 
Humboldt  and  the  "  Naturalist's  Voyage  "  of  Darwin. 

• 

A   FRIAR   IN   THE   FOREST. 

Speaking  lately  of  costumes,  I  soon  after  saw  one  again 
reminding  me  that  I  was  in  Mexico.  It  was  that  of  a 
monk,  the  wearer  himself  suddenly  becoming  disclosed  to 
our  view,  as  we  came  out  into  a  glade  or  open  space  in 
the  forest.  With  a  background  of  broad-leaved  vegetation 
— there  were  palms  and  plantains  before  our  eyes — the 
apparition  was  as  singular  as  unexpected ;  for  it  is  not  often 
that  the  gentry  with  cowl  and  shaven  crown  are  seen  in  the 
tropical  coast-land.  They  affect  rather  the  higher  and 
healthier  region  of  the  tierra  templada^  where  the  climate  is 
more  congenial  to  personal  comfort,  and  the  larger  cities 
offer  a  better  opportunity  to  practise  their  peculiar  craft 
and  calling. 

I  was  the  more  surprised  at  the  presence  of  this  solitary 
specimen  of  the  brotherhood,  on  perceiving  a  little  hut  in 
the  background,  which  had  all  the  appearance  of  being  his 
place  of  abode. 

My  travelling  companion  gave  me  a  clue  to  the  enigma 

T 


I     I 


^<  |i 


290 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


by  saying  that  Fray  Manuel,  as  he  called  the  monk,  was 
a  sort  of  eccentric  character,  who  had  strayed  from  some 
monastery  in  one  of  the  great  cities  of  the  interior,  and 
taken  up  his  abode  en  el  monte,  where  we  saw  him.  He 
lived  in  the  little  hovel  which  he  had  himself  constructed, 
hermit  fashion,  though  occasionally  paying  a  visit  to  the 
ranchos  around,  and  at  times  extending  his  peregrinations 
as  far  as  Vera  Cruz.  He  belonged  to  the  order  of  San 
Diego  (that  I  could  tell  from  the  texture  and  colour  of  his 
cloth— a  coarse  brown  woollen  stuff),  and  was  reputed  very 
pious. 

Don  Hermengildo  was  not  so  certain  about  this.  He 
had  several  times  met  the  monk  at  the  domicile  of  Na 
Rafaela's  father,  and  believed  him  to  be  something  of  a 
cheat ;  "  un  picaro  "  was  the  expression.  The  Jaroohos 
are  less  under  hierarchical  influence  than  most  others  of 
the  lower  orders  of  Mexico ;  and  he  with  whom  I  had 
just  made  acquaintance  seemed  to  care  not  a  fig  for  friar 
or  priest. 

Notwithstanding,  he  took  off*  his  hat  to  the  padre;  who 
as  we  passed  him,  gave  his  benediction,  with  the  customary 
parting  speech  : — "  Va  con  Dios" 


A  "jacal"  and  its  surroundings. 


Leaving  the  hermit  monk  behind,  I  soon  ceased  to 
think  of  him.  The  splendid  scenes  once  more  claimed  my 
attention.  Nature — beautiful  Nature — far  more  beautiful 
than  art — lovelier  even  than  woman — that  is,  to  the 
philosophic  mind — she  was  before  my  eyes,  spreading  her 
treasures  around  me.  Like  one  who,  after  a  long  absence 
in  foreign  lands,  again  revisits  home,  I  was  charmed  with 


FRAY   MANUEL. 


I 


T    2 


HI, 

si' 


A  ZIGZAG   JOURNEY   THROUGH    MEXICO. 


i9^ 


everything  I  saw— the  birds,  the  leaves,  the  flowers.  Only 
tlie  order  was  reversed.  In  my  own  land,  annually  chilled 
by  boreal  blasts,  all  these  were  comparatively  of  sombre 
colour  and  meagre  outline.  Here,  in  the  torrid  sierra 
calietite  of  Mexico,  all  was  bright,  broad,  magnificendy 
expanded.  The  very  weeds  were  showy  flowers  ;  and  where 
man  had  made  his  mark,  in  the  shape  of  a  slight  industry, 
cultivation  seemed  only  intended  for  ornament. 

The  dwelling  of  the  Jarocho,  which  soon  after  came  in 
sight,  was  itself  something  to  challenge  scrutiny  and  cause 
pleasurable  wonder.  Though  only  a  humble  jacal^  it  and 
its  surroundings  would  have  gladdened  the  eye  and  heart  of 
a  scene-painter — one  given  to  the  limning  of  tropical 
landscapes.  The  background  was  a  forest  in  which  fig-trees 
predominated,  their  smooth  glossy  leaves  presenting  that 
stellated  arrangement  peculiar  to  the  tribe,  as  also  to  tropical 
vegetation.  Mingled  with  these  were  other  arborescent 
forms,  with  foliage  green,  golden,  or  glaucous.  A  botanist, 
wedded  to  his  special  proclivity — and  what  botanist  is  not  ? 
— would  have  gazed  long  and  lovingly  on  the  smooth  silvery 
trunks  and  peltate  leaves  of  the  Cecropias,  the  pinnate 
foliage  of  the  Ingas  with  other  leguminous  trees,  and  the 
£in-like,  or  feather-like,  fronds  of  the  palms — for  there  were 
both  kinds  within  view — their  tufted  crowns  supported  upon 
slender  cylindrical  stems,  that  towered  above  the  spray  of 
the  surrounding  forest. 

In  front  and  around  the  dwelling  were  plants  and  trees  of 
those  kinds  cultivated  within  the  tropics ;  conspicuously  the 
Miisas  (banana  and  plantain),  with  their  glossy  leaves  of 
light  yellowish  green,  full  twenty  feet  in  length,  by  thirty 
inches  in  breadth  \  the  maniocs  {Jatropha  inanihot  and 
utUissiina),  with  their  radiating  leaf-crowns;  several  fruit- 


294 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


trees  of  the  family  Zapotado ;  others  of  the  orange  tribe ; 
and  in  a  spot  of  garden  ground  under  the  shade  of  these 
arborescent  forms,  the  pineapple  [Bromelia  nfmfias\  with 
many  staple  articles  of  the  Mexican  cuisine — the  sweet 
potato  (Batatas  ednlis\  the  tomato  (Solafinm  esculenfum), 
frijoles  (P/iaseolus  Hernafidezii),  and  several  species  of  chili 
( Capsicum  annuum) ;  while  an  attached  enclosure  of  some 
acres  in  extent,  bristling  with  beautiful  maize  plants,  told 
that  Don  Hermengildo  grew  sufficient  corn  for  feeding 
his  horse,  and  keeping  his  house  in  atote,  tamale,  and 
tortillas. 

It  was  a  picture  of  tropical  plenty,  requiring  but  slight 
care  or  trouble  to  produce.  As  it  first  broke  upon  the  view 
I  instinctively  checked  my  horse,  and  sat  in  the  saddle 
surveying  it.  My  host,  without  knowing  what  had  caused 
me  to  stop,  nevertheless  courteously  awaited  my  advance, 
saying  not  a  word. 

It  was  the  house  itself  that  chiefly  claimed  my  attention. 
I  had  seen  such  before — more  or  less  perfect  in  kind  and 
construction.  That  of  Don  Hermengildo  was  a  type  of  the 
country  cottage — indifferently  called  rancho,  ranchito,  or 
jacal — to  be  met  with  in  the  hot  lowlands  of  Mexico. 

A  gigantic  birdcage  of  peeled  osier  rods,  with  the  reeds 
s^t  rather  closely  together,  will  give  some  idea  of  the  struc- 
ture. The  corner  posts  were  smooth  trunks  of  the  corozo 
palm  {Cocos  hutyracea)^  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  the 
FalmacecE,  from  whose  nuts,  of  the  size  of  pool  balls,  a  fine 
oil  is  extracted.  Cross  beams  of  the  same  united  these 
uprights,  also  forming  rafters  for  the  roof,  which  was  high- 
pitched,  and  thatched  with  the  fan-shaped  fronds  of  another 
palm,  laid  on  so  as  to  shed  the  rain  like  slates  or  shingles. 
The  walls  were  of  the  cam  vaquera^  a  species  of  Bambusa^ 


BLOSSOM    OK    THE    UUOMELIA. 


I 


m'' 


A  ZIGZAG  JOURNEY  THROUGH   MEXICO.  297 

which  grows  plentifully  in  the  lowlands  of  Mexico,  its  stems 
shooting  up  to  a  height  of  fifty  or  sixty  feet.  These  cut  to 
the  proper  length,  and  set  closely  together,  stockade-fashion, 
constituted  the  walls.  The  door,  swinging  on  hide  hinges, 
was  of  split  cane;  while  windows  were  not  needed,  the 
interstices  between  the  stems  giving  all  the  light  required 
within  the  dwelling.  The  sun  was  shaded  off  by  the  pro- 
jection of  the  roof;  while  to  keep  out  cold— a  rare  require- 
ment in  the  tropics— a  thin  matting  of  plaited  palm-leaf, 
rolled  up  like  a  window-blind  under  the  eaves,  could  be  let 
down  all  around  the  house.  This  is  done  when  rain- 
storms strike  slantingly,  more  especially  during  a  norte ; 
for  then  the  interior  requires  protection  from  dust,  as  well  as 
cold. 

A  JAROCHO   AT   HOME. 


1 


■  i      \' 


As  we  approached  the  jacal  of  Don  Hermengildo,  the 
palm  curtain  was  rolled  up,  and  I  could  see  several  forms 
moving  about  inside  the  dwelling,  like  birds  within  their 
cage.  Two  of  them  were  pretty  birds,  although  neither  so 
prepossessing  as  Na  Rafaela.  They  were  the  sisters  of  my 
host ;  while  a  third  individual,  also  of  the  feminine  gender, 
was  his  mother. 

If  the  Jarochos  have  Moorish  blood  in  their  veins,  their 
manners  are  not  altogether  of  Morocco,  and  I  was  at  once 
introduced  to  the  intimacy  of  the  family  circle. 

As  we  entered  the  house,  the  two  younger  women  had 
their  rebosos  over  their  heads,  and  half  tapado — that  is,  half 
congealing  their  faces.  As  soon  as  it  became  known  that  I 
was  their  brother's  invited  guest,  the  scarf  was  permitted  to 
drop  down  to  their  shoulders,  and  their  faces  beamed  with 
the  bright  smiles  of  a  free  and  friendly  hospitality. 


(^  1^ 


/ 


298 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


m 


" Afidate^  ninas T  cried  the  Jarocho.  "Quick,  get  us 
something  to  eat ;  the  caballero  is  half  famished." 

The  vims  threw  off  their  scarf  impedimenta,,  and  passing 
through  a  back  door  that  led  to  a  sort  of  kitchen,  com- 
menced culinary  operations,  while  their  mother  remained  to 
set  out  the  table.  Two  or  three  broad  green  leaves  freshly- 
chopped  from  one  of  the  plantain-trees  growing  near,  were 
placed  side  by  side  on  a  rude  slab  table — making  a  spread 
that  looked  both  clean  and  cool.  The  plates,  cups,  and 
dishes  consisted  of  carved  cocoa-nut  shells,  and  calabashes 
of  various  shapes  and  dimensions.  There  were  neither 
knives,  forks,  nor  spoons — these  being  almost  unknown  to 
the  cottage  menace  of  Mexico. 

Three  or  four  trestle-fashioned  chairs,  with  cow-hide 
seats,  were  the  only  other  articles  of  furniture  in  the  Jacal. 
On  the  walls  were  some  small  pictures,  that  of  Santa 
(jiiadalupe,  the  patroness  saint  of  Mexico,  being  most 
conspicuous. 

There  were  two  apartments  in  the  dwelling;  and  a 
glance  into  the  inner  one  disclosed  the  beds  belonging  to 
the  female  occupants.  They  were  bedsteads  rather  than 
beds ;  a  mere  gri//e  of  bamboo  canes  set  upon  short  foot- 
posts,  with  a  piece  of  palm  matting — petate — to  serve  for 
palliasse,  mattress,  and  everything ;  while  a  cotton  sheet 
upon  each  was  all  of  bed-clothing  required  in  the  climate 
of  the  tierra  caliente. 

While  my  host  went  out  to  look  after  the  horses,  I  was 
made  free  to  inspect  the  interior  of  his  house — even  to  its 
kitchen.  The  girls  good-naturedly  allowed  me  to  be  a 
witness  of  their  culinary  skill,  their  brother  telling  them  that 
I  was  a  traveller  desirous  of  familiarising  myself  with  tli^ 
customs  of  their  country.  * 


VK' 


A    ZIGZAG   JOURNEY   THROUGH    MEXICO.  299 


THE    "  COCINA    MEXICANA." 

While  the  national  bread  was  bein^'  baked,  anotiier  iicni 
of  the  Mexican  cocina,  eciually  national,  was  observed  sim- 
mering on  the  fire.  This  was  a  stew  of  brown  beans— //v/t^/^j 
— without  which  no  dinner  is  eaten  in  Mexico.  They  are 
first  boiled,  and  then  fried  in  lard,  with  a  se:isonin<^  of 
onions— perhaps  a  little  garlic  and  chile.  In  the  higher 
region  of  the  table-lands  the  juice  of  the  minrucy  plant— 
pulque — is  the  daily,  almost  hourly,  drink;  and  this  cool 
sparkling  beverage  is  a  fine  antidote  to  the  burning  bite  of 
the  capsicums.  In  the  licrm  caliente  there  is  no  pulque; 
but  its  place  is  well  supplied  by  the  sap  of  another  tree— a 
palm  of  the  genus  Acroconiia—\\^v\x\<^  the  taste,  bouquet,  and 
other  good  qualities  of  new-made  wine.  To  obtain  it,  the 
tree  is  cut  down,  a  trough  hollowed  out  in  its  trunk,  into 
which  the  sap  gradually  oozes,  until  there  is  sufficient 
of  it  for  the  dinner-table,  or,  if  need  be,  for  a  grand 
carousal.  When  drawn  off,  the  trough  soon  refills  ;  and  the 
supply  is  thus  renewed  for  several  weeks  before  becoming 
exhausted. 

My  host  returning  into  tlie  house,  l)rought  along  with 
him  a  cantaro  of  diis  splendid  tipple,  inviting  me  to  partake. 
It  was,  as  he  informed  me,  in  the  right  condition — the  tree 
having  been  cut  down  and  "tapped"  the  day  before.  I 
could  believe  him.  It  had  all  ihe  coolness  and  effervescence 
of  champagne,  and  tasted  much  better  than  that  we  are 
accustomed  to  drink  in  our  English  hotels — to  say  nothing 
of  som.e  private  houses. 

In  fine,  our  dinner  consisted  of  a  stew  of  tasajo,  or 
jerked    beef,   pungent    with  chlie;     the  aforesaid  frijoles^ 


if 


at 


I- 


m 


300 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


similarly  spiced  ;  some  ears  of  young  maize  corn  roasted  in 
the  husk  under  ashes  of  a  wood  fire ;  sweet  potatoes  ;  and 
the  never  absent  tortillas. 

After  the  dinner  came  a  dessert  such  as  Lucullus  might 
have  coveted.  Pomona  never  spread  such  a  plenty  on  the 
banks  of  the  Tiber.  Surely  the  gardens  of  the  Hesperides 
must  have  been  in  New  Spain  ? 


THE   VOICFS    OF   THE   TROPICAL    FOREST. 


I  passed  the  night  in  a  hammock  swung  inside  the  jacal. 
My  host  slept  opon  a  petate,  laid  upon  the  floor,  the  females 
of  the  family  occupying  the  inner  apartment. 

The  petate  is  seen  everywhere  in  the  houses  of  the  poor. 
It  is  a  palm-leaf  mat,  of  about  six  feet  in  length  by  four  or 
five  in  breadth.  On  the  higher  plateaux,  where  there  are 
lakes  that  produce  the  tula,  or  bulrush— as  in  the  valleys  of 
Mexico  and  Toluca — -petates  are  made  of  this  material.  By 
day  they  serve  as  carpets  and  chairs,  the  feminine  members 
of  the  household  sitting,  or  rather  "  squatting,"  upon  them 
when  engaged  in  sewing,  knitting,  or  other  domestic  duties. 
By  night  the  petate  becomes  a  bed,  and  is  often  the  only 
thing  of  the  kind  used  in  a  Mexican  cottage.  Usually  there 
is  a  raised  bank,  or  platform,  upon  which  the  petate  is 
spread,  though  not  always,  the  hard  earthen  floor  being 
often  deemed  sufficient.  In  the  tierra  caliefite  the  plat- 
form is  a  staging  of  bamboos,  the  stems  split  and  laid 
parallel  upon  a  frame  with  short  feet.  The  elasticity  of  the 
cane,  and  the  coolness  imparted  by  the  free  circulation  of 
air  between  the  slats,  make  this  a  suitable  kind  of  couch  for 
the  natives. 


A  ZIGZAG  JOURNEY   THROUGH   MEXICO. 


301 


The  hammock,  however,  is  the  correct  thing  in  a  hot 
climate  ;  and  to  one  accustomed  to  it  a  bedstead  appears 
but  a  chmisy  contrivance.  In  the  hammock  you  are  less 
exposed  to  being  crawled  over  by  insects  and  reptUia ; 
though  a  scorpion,  centipede,  or  climbing  snake  may 
sometimes  drop  into  it  from  the  thatch  above.  Lizards, 
too,  can  go  anywhere,  along  a  joist  or  ceiling,  back 
downward. 

When  encamped  in  the  desert  Isle  of  Lobos,  off  Tuxpan, 
I  remember  one  of  these  reptiles  taking  its  station  inside  my 
hut,  just  under  the  ridge-pole,  with  its  back  downward,  and 
neck  slightly  craned  to  one  side.  As  it  was  a  beautiful 
Anolius  I  did  not  disturb  it,  and  it  remained  three  whole 
days  and  nights,  not  only  in  the  same  position,  but  without 
in  the  least  changing  the  attitude  it  had  assumed.  During 
ail  that  time — and  I  was  most  of  it  inside  my  tent — I  did 
not  observe  the  slightest  movement  either  of  limbs  or  body. 
It  was  finally  removed  by  a  brother  officer  who  was  a  keen 
herpetologist.  I  could  then  understand  the  popular  belief 
as  to  the  chameleon  living  upon  air. 

The  voices  of  the  tropical  forest  awakened  me  at  the 
earliest  hour  of  dawn.  Coming  freely  through  the  interstices 
of  the  eaves,  along  with  the  first  rays  of  Aurora,  they  fell 
upon  my  ear  as  if  I  had  been  sleeping  sub  Jove,  It  was  on 
the  whole  not  an  unpleasing  chorus — shrill  cries  mingled 
with  sweet  warblings.  I  could  distinguish  the  jabbering  of 
parrots  and  the  cackling  of  the  penelope.  This  is  the  loudest 
and  most  discordant  note  heard  in  the  tropical  forest,  at 
times  resembling  the  cry  of  some  one  in  mortal  agony.  Its 
usual  call  is  represented  by  the  name  which  the  natives  have 
given  to  the  bird.  It  is  allied  to  the  curassow  birds,  be- 
longing to  the  order  of  the  Gallinacecs,  and  family  Cracida, 


r 


I; 


»;1, 


il!; 


l! 


302 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


r  • 


lii* 


In 

M 


of  which  there  are  several  genera  and   species   but   little 
known  to  naturalists. 

Taking  part  in  the  sylvan  concert  were  jays  and 
cardinals,  whose  harsh  cries  were  but  half-neutralised  by  the 
softer  voices  of  the  Fringellidce  and  warblers.  Afar  off  I 
could  hear  the  lugubrious  wail  of  the  Aluatts  or  howling 
monkeys — the  red  species  {iirsimis  ?)  being  common  enough 
in  the  Vera  Cruz  coast-land.  Several  times  during  the  night 
a  wolf  had  bayed  the  moon  close  to  my  sleeping  quarters. 
It  was  the  large  Mexican  variety — a  formidable  creature, 
very  different  from  the  coyote^  or  jackal,  and  dreaded  by  the 
ganaderos,  especially  in  calf-time.  Once  the  midnight 
stiHness  was  interrupted  by  a  sound  that  interested  me  more 
than  all.  It  was  that  of  the  tiger  {tigre),  for  by  this 
misnomer  is  the  jaguar  {Feiis  on^a)  known  throughout 
Spanish  America,  the  puma,  or  couguar,  being  equally  mis- 
named lion  {Icon).  Don  Hermengildo  told  me  that  neither 
was  common  around  his  habitation,  though  occasionally 
met  with.  Several  spotted  and  yellow  skins  hanging 
against  the  wall,  with  others  converted  into  articles  of 
furniture,  proved  the  truth  of  at  least  the  latter  part  of 
his  statement. 

We  sprang  from  our  hammocks,  and  were  out  at  first 
glimpse  of  daylight.  The  early  matutinal  hour  is  that  most 
enjoyable  in  that  torrid  zone.  Then  the  atmosphere  is 
delightfully  cool,  and  the  tropical  flora  gives  out  its  sweetest 
fragrance.  Fortunate  if  the  zorilla^  or  skunk  {Mephitis 
Americaiid),  has  not  been  straying  near,  and  engaging  in 
combat  with  some  enemy.  If  it  has,  there  will  be  no 
balm  upon  the  breeze,  but  instead  an  odour  almost  un- 
endurable. 


ZIGZAG  JOURNEY  THROUGH   MEXICO. 


303 


ii 


DESAYUNO   Y   ALMUERZO." 


The  girls  were  up  before  us,  and  occupied  in  the  codmr, 
from  which  soon  came  forth  the  fruit  of  their  fust  cuHnary 
labour.  It  was  chocolate,  served  in  a  little  urn-slmped  cup 
of  red  earthenware— the  liquid  thick  and  frothing— the  froth 
produced  by  a  "  whisk  "  similar  to  that  used  in  making  light 
creams  or  ''  trifles."  This,  with  a  piece  of  biscuit  or  sponge- 
cake,  is  the  universal  desayuno  {dejeuner)  of  the  Mexicans, 
taken  at  the  moment  of  getting  out  of  bed.  The  aimuerzo, 
or  breakfast,  is  a  very  different  a.Tair,  and  served  at  a  later 
hour — usually  about  eleven  o'clock.  It  is  a  substantial 
meal,  with  eggs,  meats,  and  wine— in  short,  a  dejeuner  a  la 
fourchette.  As  we  intended  making  a  well-timed  start,  we 
had  breakfast  at  an  earlier  hour,  the  eggs  being  those  of  the 
iguana ;  the  meats,  a  steak  taken  from  the  ribs  of  the  same 
reptile ;  with  some  stewed  tasajo,  frijoles,  and  hot  tortillas ; 
while  the  wine  was  again  the  delicious  juice  of  the  Acrocomia 
palm. 

After  breakfast  we  set  out  for  Cacahuatl,  my  host  having 
already  looked  to  the  grooming  and  saddling  of  our  horses. 
His  sisters  seemed  as  if  they  would  have  liked  to  go  also. 
What  Mexican  7nuchacha  can  resist  the  attractions  of  a 
fiesta  ?  But  Don  Hermengildo  discouraged  them  by  pointing 
out  the  distance  to  Cacahuatl — over  ten  miles.  He  did  not 
think  it  too  far  for  Na  Rafaela ;  I  noticed  that  he  said 
nothing  to  his  sisters  about  her  going. 

He  was  habited  in  his  best  habiliments — the  complete 
costume  of  a  Jarocho,  shining  in  all  the  splendour  of 
purple  and  gold.  His  horse  was  alike  richly  caparisoned, 
both  saddle  and  bridle  ornamented  with  silver  studs,  tags, 


304 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


and  tassels.  His  cortarne^  lying  along  the  saddle-flap,  had 
received  a  fresh  sharpening.  Something  he  said  led  me  to 
the  belief  that  before  the  fiesta  was  over  its  bright  blade 
might  be  dimmed  with  blood. 


A    RUSnC   BALLROOM. 


We  reached  Cacahuatl  a  little  after  the  hour  of  noon. 
All  around  were  ventorillos,  or  booths,  where  drinks  were 
dealt  out  to  those  who  had  the  coin  to  pay  for  them — chia 
water,  orangeade,  and  tapichi  (a  fermented  liquor  made  from 
the  juice  of  the  pineapple),  \^ith  several  other  beverages. 
There  were  also  French  and  Catalonian  brandies — the  latter 
a  clear  liquid  resembling  whisky,  common  in  the  towns  of 
Mexico.  Some  of  the  ventorillos^  or  drinking-stalls,  were  tasty 
affairs,  and  curious  in  the  eyes  of  a  traveller.  They  were 
little  enclosures  of  four  or  five  feet  diameter,  made  of  fine 
soft  sand,  banked  up  and  wetted  to  keep  it  in  place.  The 
surface  of  the  sand  was  covered  and  completely  hidden  with 
green  leaves  and  flowers,  arranged  in  varied  pattern-work,  as 
stars,  crosses,  and  crescents — the  whole  being  kept  cool 
and  fresh  by  occasional  sprinkling  from  the  water-can. 
Inside  stands  the  dispenser  of  the  drinks — often  a  young 
and  very  pretty  girl,  surrounded  by  her  cantaros  and  painted 
calabashes,  while  her  smiles,  directed  upon  the  passer-by, 
are  designed  to  tempt  him  to  the  tasting  of  some  beverage, 
which  not  unfrequently  she  also  recommends  with  most 
beguiling  speeches. 

The  most  remarkable  structure  was  one  standing  in  the 
centre  of  the  plaza,  which,  from  fresh  work,  I  could  see  was 
recently  erected,  while  its  frailty  told  that  it  was  intended  to 
be  temporary — in  fact,  only  for  the  fiesta.     It  was  simply  a 


A   ZIGZAG  JOURNEY  THROUGH   MEXICO. 


305 


shed,  or  canopy,  with  a  horizontal  roof  supported  upon 
uprights  set  at  equal  distances  apart.  These  were  the 
trunks  of  palm-trees,  their  smooth,  straight  cokmms  being 
entwined  with  garlands  of  flowers  strung  upon  sipos^  or  forest 
creepers,  while  festoons  of  the  same  were  suspended  from 
one  to  the  other.  The  roof  was  covered  in  witli  the  broad 
green  leaves  of  the  banana,  laid  on  sufficiently  thick  to 
exclude  every  ray  of  the  sun,  while  the  absence  of  walls 
permitted  the  breeze  to  circulate  freely  through  the  space 
underneath.  Inside,  a  portion  of  the  floor— its  central  part 
— was  of  earth  trodden  smooth,  and  raised  several  inches 
above  the  surrounding  level.  It  was  carpeted  with  the 
broad,  glossy  leaves  of  the  plantain  laid  side  by  side,  their 
midribs  having  been  removed.  I  might  have  guessed  the 
purpose  of  this  sylvan  temple,  had  not  my  guide,  Don 
Hermengildo,  made  it  known  to  me.  It  was  the  impro- 
vised village  ballroom,  where  I  was  soon  to  see  a  Mexican 
fandango  in  all  its  varied  phases. 

In  most  other  countries  dancing  waits  for  the  night,  and 
is  carried  on  under  the  light  of  oil  lamps  or  jets  of  gas.  In 
the  tierra  caliente  of  Mexico  the  sun  often  shines  on  the 
worshippers  of  Terpsichore,  who,  in  their  devotion  to  the 
goddess,  are  ardent  as  his  beams.  At  ih^  fiesta  of  Cacahuatl 
the  dancing  commenced  in  the  early  afternoon,  and  was  soon 
at  its  height.  Three  or  four  guitars  of  the  handolon  and 
jarafica  kind  composed  the  orchestra,  their  music  occasionally 
supplemented  by  the  voices  of  the  players,  with  words 
frequently  improvised,  and  not  unfrequently  expressing 
sentiments  that  in  polite  society  might  have  been  deemed 
rather  bizarre. 

As  soon  as  the  music  had  struck  up,  groups  of  young 
girls  were  trooping  towards    the  arboreal   ballroom,  each 


;^' 


II 


3o6 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


i;s 


mi 


house  in  the  village  contributing  its  quota.  Among  them  I 
saw  Na  Rafaela  and  her  sister,  both  conspicuous  by  their 
beauty,   though  in  this  respect  there  were   many  others 

remarkable. 

» 

TERPSICHORE  AMONG  THE  JAROCHOS. 

The  dancing  commenced,  and  was  carried  on  with  the 
ardour  and  zest  peculiar  to  country-people,  especially  of 
Spanish  race.  Several  kinds  of  dances  were  executed 
recognisable  as  those  common  to  old  Spain,  among  them 
tlie  do/ero  and  zapateador.  There  was  also  a  contradanza^  a 
sort  of  quadrille  with  several  couples  \  after  which  a  comical 
fellow  gave  the  dance  styled  La  Garotta^  in  which  he 
imitated  the  twisting  contortions  of  a  malefactor  suffering 
the  Spanish  mode  of  capital  punishment.  The  exhibition, 
to  me  somewhat  disgusting,  drew  from  the  Jarochos  loud 
vivas  and  screams  of  delight. 

To  this  succeeded  the  pretenera,  a  dance  somewhat 
similar,  but  to  a  different  son,  or  tune.  These  the  musicians 
changed,  either  of  their  own  accord,  or  by  the  command  of 
the  spectators. 

When  tired  of  \hQ  pretenera,  there  was  a  murmur  among 
the  crowd  as  if  denoting  expectation.  Something  especially 
attractive  was  evidently  looked  for.  Then  came  the  cry, 
*'  Chamarra  y  machete  P^  (sash  and  sword).  Though  I  had 
heard  of  this  dance,  I  had  never  before  witnessed  it.  I 
therefore  watched  with  all  eyes  for  the  event. 

The  estrada,  or  raised  floor,  had  been  for  the  moment 
unoccupied,  as  the  stage  of  a  theatre  between  two  pieces. 
And  just  as  the  premiere  danseuse  comes  on,  amid  the 
universal  applause  of  pit,   boxes,   and  gallery,  so  was  a 


I     ■;    It 


A  ZIGZAG  JOURNEY  THROUGH   MEXICO. 


307 


young  girl  saluted  by  the  encircling  crowd  of  Jarochos.    It 
was  Na  Rafaela. 

Don  Hermengildo,  standing  by  my  side— so  close  that 
I  could  feel  the  beatings  of  his  heart  — seemed  the 
only  one  in  the  assemblage  that  did  not  applaud.  His 
admiration  was  too  strong,  too  passionate,  to  admit  of  any 
idle  exhibition. 

Beyond  all  question  the  girl  looked  lovely— 1  might  say, 
superbly  so.  The  excitement  of  the  occasion  had  called  the 
carmine  into  her  cheeks,  till  it  vied  with  the  crimson 
flowers  of  the  grenadine  wreathed  coquettishly  around  her 
head ;  while  in  her  jet-black  eyes  burned  a  wild  voluptuous 
fire.  It  seemed  to  flame  up  as  proudly  and  coquettishly  she 
glanced  at  the  spectators.  She  evidently  felt  her  power— 
the  gift  of  great  beauty— that  among  the  gallant  and  pas- 
sionate Jarochos  made  her  the  peer  of  a  queen. 

Up  to  this  time,  and  during  all  the  day,  I  had  been 
looking  for  Joaquin  Valdez,  the  guide  who  was  to  accom- 
pany me  on  my  projected  journey.  Don  Hermengildo's 
assurance  or  intimation  that  he  would  be  at  the  Jies/a 
seemed  doubtful  of  fulfilment,  and  I  began  to  think  I 
should  have  to  return  to  Santa  Fe  and  make  fresh  search 
for  him.  But  just  as  the  guitar-players  commenced  striking 
up  the  sou  for  the  dance  of  the  "  sash  and  sword,"  another 
sound  caused  distraction  from  the  spectacle,  at  tne  same 
time  creating  a  movement  among  the  spectators. 

It  was  the  tramping  of  a  horse — a  horse  coming  at  quick 
gallop  into  the  village.  In  another  moment  a  horseman 
appeared  in  the  plaza.  Reining  up,  he  dismounted,  and 
advanced  towards  the  dancing  place. 

The  Jarochos  made  way,  several  crying  out,  "  Vim 
Valdez  r*     I  did  not  need  hearing  the  name  to  recognise  in 

u  2 


M     1 

ii 


ill 


3o8 


WONDERFUL   ADVENTURES. 


the  new  comer  the  man  who  was  to  have  guided  me  all 
over  Mexico. 

Passing  through  the  outer  circle  he  took  stand  close  to 
tlie  dancing-stage,  just  opposite  to  where  I  was  myself 
placed  beside  Don  Hermengildo. 

A  look  at  my  late  host's  rival,  coupled  with  a  glance  I 
saw  given  him  by  Na  Rafaela,  convinced  me  that  the  amber 
beads  had  been  bestowed  in  vain.  In  comparing  the  two 
men,  and  taking  personal  appearance  for  the  standard,  the 
advantages  were  all  on  the  side  of  Valdez,  and  I  knew  that 
this  would  outweigh  everything  else  in  the  estimation  of  a 
Jarocha.  In  her  eyes  intellect,  morality,  sobriety,  even 
honesty,  are  as  nothing  compared  with  personal  beauty, 
where  courage  is  conjoined. 


"  CHAMARRA   Y   MACHETE." 


As  soon  as  the  guitar-players  had  got  fairly  into  the 
tune,  the  young  girl  began  the  measure  of  the  dance.  It 
went  at  first  with  a  slow  tranquil  step,  the  music  having  in 
it  something  of  melancholy.  Gradually  it  became  livelier 
and  quicker.  The  eyes  of  Na  Rafaela,  hitherto  bent  upon 
the  floor,  were  raised,  and  wandered  around  the  circle  of 
spectators  in  a  glance  half  coquettish,  half  inquiring.  It 
seemed  to  ask,  "Who  is  to  be  my  partner?" 

At  least  half  a  score  of  young  fellows,  thus  interpreting 
it,  sprang  out  upon  the  estrada ;  but  Don  Hermengildo, 
watching  the  chance,  had  been  foremost.  A  slight  incUna- 
tion  of  Na  Rafaela's  head  told  him  he  was  accepted.  Per- 
haps the  amber  beads  did  something  to  obtain  for  him  the 
preference. 

Having  got  the  floor  thus  conceded,  he  placed  himself 


A   ZIGZAG  JOURNEY   THROUGH   MEXICO. 


309 


vts-a-vis  with  the  girl,  when  a  dance  succeeded,  in  move- 
ments bearing  some  resemblance  to  those  of  the  opposite 
lady  and  gentleman  in  the  figure  of  a  quadrille.  It  was, 
however,  much  more  expressive,  representing  the  different 
phases  of  courtship  and  coquetry,  with  a  passionate 
abandon  that  would  scarcely  have  been  tolerated  in  a 
fashionable  ballroom. 

It  ended  in  Don  Hermengildo  unwinding  the  China 
crape  sash  from  his  waist,  and  flinging  it  over  the  shoulders 
of  the  fair  datiseuse;  then,  gracefully  bending  and  bowing, 
he  retired  back  into  the  circle  of  spectators. 

She  permitting  the  scarf  to  remain  there,  signified  her 
acceptance  of  him  until  some  other  should  show  a  better 
claim  to  her  preference.  The  affair  was,  in  fact,  neither 
more  nor  less  than  a  challenge,  and  I  expected  to  see 
Joaquin  Valdez  next  take  the  floor.  In  this  I  was  disap- 
pointed :  another  young  fellow  claiming  precedence,  which 
was  by  common  assent  accorded  to  him.  The  girl  was 
still  dancing  on,  the  music  having  continued  without  inter- 
ruption. 

The  new  partner  went  through  a  series  of  jigs  and 
pirouettes  somewhat  similar  to  those  executed  by  Don 
Hermengildo,  and  terminating  in  a  similar  manner,  with  the 
exception  that,  instead  of  presenting  his  scarf  to  the  lady, 
the  second  partner  offered  her  his  sombrero^  with  its  garniture 
of  gold  bullion. 

This  she  accepted,  placing  it  coquettishly  upon  her 
head,  and  so  slanted  that  her  magnificent  chevelure  of  sable 
hue  appeared  advantageously  beneath  the  bordering  of 
gold. 

For  an  instant  she  paused  in  pirouette,  while  adjusting 
the  hat,  and  then  continued  dancing  as  before. 


i 


i 


I 


\        li 


310 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES. 


Ki';' 


The  act,  gracefully  done,  drew  a  chorus  of  "  vwas^ 
and  "  bravos  "  from  the  spectators ;  and  now  all  was  silence 
around  the  circle,  the  musicians  alone  keeping  up  the  noise, 
and  even  increasing  it  by  a  more  vigorous  twanging  of 
guitar-strings.  These  fellows  appeared  to  improvise  the 
music,  suiting  the  strains  to  the  dances.  Experience  told 
them  that  the  occasion  had  now  arrived  calling  for  notes 
of  a  warlike  nature,  and  their  instruments  responded  in 
tone. 

Among  the  crowd  arose  the  cry,  ''^Machete!  machetkr* 
I  knew  what  it  meant,  and  was  not  surprised  when  I  saw 
Valdez  spring  up  to  the  estrada,  and  with  a  graceful  bow 
present  himself  to  the  danseuse.  She  was  still  moving  to 
the  music,  as  if  nothing  had  occurred  to  interrupt  her 
Terpsichorean  enjoyment,  and  only  returned  his  salutation 
by  a  slight  nod,  which,  however,  told  him  that  he  too  was 
welcome  to  the  honour  of  bestowing  his  favours. 

A  new  pas  de  deux  commenced,  which  was  carried 
on  as  before,  though  with  voluntary  variations;  in  fact, 
many  of  the  figures  appeared  to  be  extemporised,  and 
although  not  a  word  was  spoken,  the  dancers  seemed  to 
converse  in  a  language  perfectly  comprehended  by  those 
standing  around  Every  now  and  then  bravos  resounded 
on  the  air. 

It  ended  in  Valdez  drawing  his  machete  from  its  sheath ; 
and  with  a  blue  ribbon  which  was  knotted  round  its  hilt 
suspending  it  from  the  right  shoulder  of  the  girl,  her  left 
already  carrying  the  scarf  of  Don  Hermengildo. 

The  dance  was  at  an  end.  Na  Rafaela,  ceasing  her 
saltations,  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  estrada,  palpitating, 
proud.  Loud  vivas  rang  through  the  palm-thatched 
shed. 


A  ZIGZAG  JOURNEY  THROUGH   MEXICO. 


311 


Like  one  standing  in  the  lobby  of  a  theatre,  I  watched 
lor  the  next  incident  on  the  stage. 

It  came  in  due  course.  Don  Hermengildo,  leaving  my 
side,  stepped  out  and  redeemed  his  scarf  by  pouring  a 
handful  of  silver  coins  into  the  palm  ot  Na  Rafaela,  who 
received  the  douceur  with  drooping  eyelids  and  lips  quite 
motionless.  Thanks  were  not  needed;  it  was  simply  the 
redeeming  of  a  pledge. 

The  young  fellow  who  had  pawned  his  hat,  took  back 
his  property  with  a  less  profuse  expenditure ;  while  Valdez, 
on  regaining  his  sword,  gave  only  a  smile.  The  girl  smiled 
as  he  took  the  weapon  from  her  hand  The  spectators  saw 
it,  and  said,  "  Don  Hermengildo  has  no  chance  \  Valdez  is 
her  man.     There  must  be  a  fight  for  it." 

They  said  this  gleefully,  anticipating  a  sport  better  than 
bull-taming,  cock-fighting,  or  even  an  albur  at  monte. 

A   JAROCHO    DUEL. 


Nothing  could  have  been  more  clear  than  what  was  to 
succeed — a  combat  between  the  two  men — perhaps  a  duel 
to  the  death. 

At  all  events,  there  would  be  a  drawing  of  blood.  The 
Jarochos  awaited  it  as  a  matter  of  course — a  thing  of  ordinary 
occurrence  at  \}s\q  fiesta  QXid  fandango. 

The  dancing  was  for  a  time  suspended,  the  girls  scatter- 
ing off  to  the  houses,  leaving  the  men  in  possession  of  the 
palm-screened  pavilion.  So  late  the  scene  of  gaiety  and 
pleasance,  it  was  now  to  be  the  arena  of  a  contest  that 
would  surely  end  in  bloodshed. 

•  I  saw  that  nothing  could  stay  the  encounter.     It  was  in 
<-he  heart  of  Jarocho-land,  and  its  customs  and  habits  were 


312 


WONDERFUL  ADVENTURES 


law.  The  alcaldk  of  the  village,  with  his  alguazUs,  was 
present,  but  they  could  not  have  prevented  the  strife.  Even 
the  cura  did  not  interfere.  It  would  have  served  no  pur- 
pose, for  the  fight  would  have  come  off  all  the  same,  beyond 
his  jurisdiction,  in  the  forest  shade — sunshine — anywhere. 
It  was  a  difficulty  not  to  be  adjusted  without  the  letting  of 
blood. 

It  was  not  my  business  to  interfere  in  it;  and,  thus 
reflecting,  I  became  a  silent  spectator  of  a  combat  strange 
as  it  was  serious. 

For  a  duel  it  was  one  of  the  shortest  it  has  been  my  ill 
luck  to  assist  at.  It  did  not  occupy  ten  minutes  of  time. 
In  even  less  the  whole  thing  was  over,  quicker  than  could 
have  been  any  affair  with  pistols. 

The  antagonists  took  their  stand,  each  with  his  machete 
drawn,  their  left  arms  enrolled  in  their  mangas  by  way  of 
shield.  Their  fencing  was  far  from  dexterous.  It  was 
evident  that  neither  had  ever  taken  lessons  from  a  maitre 
descrime.  On  both  sides  it  was  simply  a  succession  of  rash 
thrusts  and  clumsy  parrying,  which  ended,  as  might  be 
expected,  in  the  mutual  drawing  of  blood,  with  a  consider- 
able hacking  of  flesh.  So  successful  were  they  in  this 
that  both  combatants  came  to  the  ground,  and  were  carried 
off  by  their  respective  atmgos. 

To  myself  the  result  was  so  far  disastrous  that  I  had  to 
leave  Cacahuatl  alone,  and  seek  a  new  companion  for  my 
ZIGZAG  JOURNEY  THROUGH  Mexico.  ... 

It  was  several  months  after  when  this  journey  was 
completed,  and  I  returned  to  the  land  of  the  Jarocho.  I 
then  learnt  that  both  combatants  had  recovered  from  their 
wounds,  and  were  still  competitors  for  the  hand  of  Na 
Rafaela, 


During 
tempted  m( 

She  ans 
toss  of  the 
jetty  plaits 


Cassbl 


A   ZIGZAG  JOURNEY   THROUGH   MEXICO. 


313 


During  an  interview  I  had  with  this  fair  damsel,  curiosity 
tempted  me  to  ask  which  was  to  be  the  favoured  one. 

She  answered  me  with  a  significant  smile  and  a  coquettish 
toss  of  the  head,  that  burst  her  coiled  hair,  and  sent  the 
jetty  plaits  scattering  ov^r  her  shoulders  ; 

''^  Ni  uno  ni  otro  r* 


THE   END. 


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"  It  is  one  of  the  most  entertaining 
volumes  for  young  people  which  has 
been  issufid  tor  a  long  time." — Boston 
JoumaU 

"  The  book  is  altogether,  as  its  name 
implies,  a  collection  of  really  good 
stories  that  both  old  and  young  may 


read  with  interest  and  profit."— P>li2«- 
dtiphia  Evening  Telegraph. 

"It  will  prove  a  valued  friend  to 
those  who  desire  something  that  will 
please  and  instruct  long  after  the  holi- 
days have  passed." — Cincinnati  Eve- 
ning  Chronicle. 


EvcCs  Adventures  in  Shadow-Land.    By  Mary  D, 

Nauman,  author  of  "  Sidney  Elliott,"  "  Twisted  Threads," 
etc.     Illustrated.     i6mo.     Extra  cloth.     j$li.25. 

Xo\A.'*—BtUiim^re   Otf 


A  peculiar  fascinating  fairy  story 
which  cannot  fhil  to  please  the  young 
foUcs.  Eva's  wonderful  adventures 
■re  told  in  a  charming  style,  well 
suited  to  youthful  readers. 

**FuII    of    marvelous    adventures. 


charmingly 
zette. 

"Very  charming  to  read,  and  told 
in  very  beautiful  English."- ^tfw 
Vprh  Evening  MaiL 


Elms  Homestead.    By  Mrs.  M.  O.  Johnson^  author 

of  "  Linwood ;  or,  The  Christmas  Gift,"  «  The  Century  Plant," 
etc.  With  two  full-page  Illustrations.  i6mo.  Extra  cloth. 
$1. 


**  It  is  an  exceedingly  attractive  book 
for  children,  full  of^wise  and  kindly 
Christian  instruction,  without  too 
BBUcb  preaching." — N.  Y.  Independent. 


"  To  those  who  have  hearts  to  Ioto 
that  which  is  pure  and  beautiful,  this 
book  will  be  a  most  welcome  present" 
-'New  Vorh  Christian  InteU^enttr. 


A 


fUBLTCATIONS  OF  J,  B.  LTPPINCOTT  6f  CO. 


The  Virginia  Tourist    Sketches  of  the  Springs  and 

Mountains  of  Virginia :  containing  an  Exposition  of  Fields 
for  the  Tourist  in  Virginia ;  Natural  Beauties  and  Wonder* 
of  the  State;  also,  Accounts  of  its  Mineral  Springs,  and  a 
Medical  Guide  to  the  Use  of  the  Waters,  etc.,  etc.  By 
'  Edward  A.  Pollard,  author  of  "  The  Lost  Cause,"  etc. 
Illustrated  by  Engravings  from  Actual  Sketches.  i2mo. 
Extra  cloth.    $1.75.     l6mo.     Paper  cover.    $i» 

*'  On  the  whole,  an   indispensable        "  Mr.  Pollard's  very  well-drawn  de- 
bodk  to  the  traveler  who  would  enjoy 
the  scenery  of  the  Old  Dominion." — 
New  York  Independent. 

"This  compact,  well-digested  little 
volume  supplies  a  desideratum  in  the 
tourist  literature  of  the  country.  .  .  . 
To  all  such  we  confidently  recommend 
Mr.  Pollard's  entertaining  and  ex- 
haustive guide." — New  York  Times. 


scription  of  it,  illustrated  by  excellent 
engravings,  will  find  many  interested 
readers.  •'—^«_^a/tf  Express. 

"  It  is  a  very  attractive  book,  partly 
because  it  deals  with  portions  of  Vir- 
ginia and  Virginia  life  comparatively 
unknown,  and  partly  because  Mr.  Pol- 
lard is  a  very  sparkling  and  entertain- 
ing writer." — Chicago  TributK. 

The  Book  of  Travels  of  a  Doctor  of  Physic,     Con- 

taining  his  Observations  made  in  Certain  Portions  of  the 
Two  Continents.     I2mo.     Extra  cloth.     Ornamented  sides. 


"Thoroughly  entertaining  through- 
out"—iVipw  York  Times. 


$2. 
"  One  of  the  most  enjoyable  books 
6f  travel  we  have  ever  read." — PhUa- 
delphia  Evening  Bulletin. 

Days  in  North  India.    By  Norman  Macleod^  D.  /)., 

author  of  "  Wee  Davie,"  "  Eastward,"  etc.    With  numer- 

l2mo.      Toned  paper.      Extra  cloth. 


ous    Illustrations. 
Gilt  top.    $2. 


may  be  questioned  whether  any  book 
of  the  kind  hitherto  published  has  so 
just  a  claim  to  popularity  as  the  volume 
before  us."— Pall  Mall  Gazette. 


"  The  narrative  leaves  nothing  to  be 
desired.  The  style  is  admirable,  the 
statements  are  full  of  interest,  the 
description  of  cities,  scenery  and  peo- 
ple vivacious  and  picturesque,  and  it 

The  American  Sportsman:    Containing  Hints  to 

Sportsmen,  Notes  on  Shooting  and  the  Habits  of  the  Game 
Birds  and  Wild  Fowl  of  America.  By  Elisha  J.  Lewis, 
M.  D.,  Member  of  the  American  Philosophical  Society, 
American  Editor  of  "Youatt  on  the  Dog,"  etc.  With 
numerous  Illustrations.  8vo.  Extra  cloth,  gilt.  $2.75. 
Half  calf.     $4-50- 


"Not  oi.ly  charming,  but  instruc- 
tive. Dr.  Lewis  is  a  scholar,  and  he 
lias  practical  knowledge  of  the  subject 
Seated  of.  His  notes  on  shooting  are 
««ryfuTw,  and  his  descriptions  of  the 
game  birds  of  America  and  their  habits 


accurate  and  instructive.  His  Style  it 
pure  and  graceful.  The  illustrations 
to  this  volume  are  good,  and  the  work 
is  handsomely  gotten  up."— rw^f 
Field  and  Farm. 


II 


f 

I- 

II 


I 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  J.  B,  LIPPINCOTT  ^  CO, 

Dorothy  Fox,    A  novel.    By  Louisa  Parr,  authof 

of  "  How  it  all  Happened,"  etc.     "With  numerous  Illustra- 
tions.    8vo.     Paper  cover.     75  cents.     Extra  cloth.   5l'25« 


"The  Quaker  character,  though  its 
quaintness  and  simplicity  may  seem 
easy  enough  to  catch,  requires  a  deli- 
cate workman  to  do  it  justice.  Such 
in  artist  is  the  author  of  '  Dorothy 
Fox,'  and  we  must  thank  her  for  a 
charming  novel  The  story  is  dramat- 
ically interesting,  and  the  characters 
are  drawn  with  a  firm  and  graceful 
hand.  The  style  is  fresh  and  natural, 
vigorous  without  vulgarity,  simple 
without  mawkishness.  Dorothy  her- 
self is  represented  as  charming    ^1 


hearts,  and  she  will  charm  all  read* 
ers.  .  .  We  wish  '  Dorothy  Fox'  many 
editions." — London  Times. 

"  One  of  the  best  novels  of  the  sea* 
son." — Philadelphia  Press. 

"  The  characters  are  brought  out  in 
life-like  style,  and  cannot  fail  to  attract 
the  closest  attention." — Pittsburg  Ga* 
xette. 

"  It  is  admirably  told,  and  will  estab- 
lish the  reputation  of  the  author  among 
novelists. ' ' — A  Ibany  A  rgus. 


How  it  all  Happened.    By  Louisa  Parr^  author  of 

"  Dorotb  r  Fox,"  etc.     i2mo.    Paper  cover.     25  cents. 

one  finds  so 

a  love  story, 

ttw  pages." — 


"  It  is  not  oft  ( 
much  pleasure  .in  re.^ 
charmingly  told   in  a 
Charleston  Courier. 

"  Is  a  well-written  little  love  story, 


in  which  a  great  deal  is  said  in  a  very 
few  -votAs.   '-Philadelphia  Evening 


Telegraph. 

"  A  remarkably  clever  story."— ^^x* 
ton  Saturday  Evening  Gazette. 


yohn  Thompson,  Blockhead,  and  Companion  Por^ 
traits.  By  Louisa  Parr,  author  of  "Dorothy  Fox." 
i2mo.    With  Frontispiece.     Extra  cloth.     $1.75. 

"  Extremely  well-told  stories,  inter- 
esting in  characters  and  incidents,  and 
pure  and  wholesome  in  sentiment." — 
Boston  H^atchman  and  Reflector. 

"  These  are  racy  sketches,  and  be- 
long to  that  delightfiil  class  in  which 
the  end  comes  before  the  reader  is 
ready  for  it 

*'  The  style  throughout  is  very  sim- 


ple and  fi-esh,  abounding  in  strongs 
vivid,  idiomatic  English." — Honu 
youmal. 

"They  are  quite  brilliant  narrative 
sketches,  worthy  of  the  reputation  es- 
tablished by  the  writer." — Philadel" 
phia  Inquirer. 

"  Very  presentable,  very  readable." 
—New  York  Times. 


The  Quiet  Miss  Godolphin,  by  Ruth  Garrett;  and 
A  CHANCE  CHILD,  by  Edward  Garrett,  joint  authors 
of  "  Occupations  of  a  Retired  Life  "  and  "  White  as  Snow." 
With  Six  Illustrations  by  Townley  Green.  i6mo.  Cloth. 
75  cents.     Paper  cover.     50  cents. 


**  These  stories  are  characterized  by 
great  strength  and  beauty  of  thought, 
with  a  singularly  attractive  style.  Their 


influence  will  not  fail  to  improve  and 
AtXv^V— Philadelphia  Age. 


St,   Cecilia,      A  Modem    Tale  from  Real  Life, 

Part  I. — Adversity.     i2mo.     Extra  cloth.    %\.^Q, 

"  It  is  carefully  and  beautifiilly  writ 
^HX^**— Washington  Chronicle. 


"A  tale  that  we  can  cheerfully  re- 


commend as  fi'esh,  entertaining  and 
well  written." — LouisviUt  Couritr 
journal. 


.v.ii 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  y,  B.  LIPPINCOTT  ^  CO. 


Blanche  Gtlroy,     A  Girl's  Story.    A  Novel    By 

Margaret  Hosmer,  author  of  "The  Morrisons,"  "Ten 
Years  of  a  Lifetime,"  etc.     i2mo.     Extra  cloth.     $1.50. 

"  Its  tone  is  txctAtaiV—Pkiladel- 
^ia  Age. 

"  It  is  a  love-story  of  the  intense  and 
tragical  sort,  with  a  deep  plot  and  any 
amount  of  stirring  incident.  The 
cAiaracters  are  drawn  with  much  dis* 
tinctness  and  vigor,  and  the  story 
sweeps  on  to  its  end  amid  a  rushing 

The  Holcombes.     A  Story  of  Virgifiia  Home-Life. 
By  Mary  Tucker  Magill.     i2mo.    Extra  cloth.    $1.50. 

*'  The  subject  is  a  charming  one."— 
Witichester  Times. 

"  This  book  is  written  from  an  ele- 
vated point  of  view,  both  as  to  its 
society  and  scenery.    .    .    .    We  find 


I2mo. 

whirl  of  cross-purposes  with  decoying 
fascination.  It  must  be  said,  too,  that 
the  secret  of  the  interest  is  in  the 
characters  and  their  destinies,  sinc< 
the  language  of  the  narrative  is  neithet 
florid  nor  txaiggttzitd."— Boston  Ad- 
vertiser. 


it  an  interesting  story.  .  .  .  The 
tone  of  this  work  is  admirable,  and  we 
shall  be  glad  to  hear  again  from  the 
?M\hoT."—PhUcidelpkia  Age. 


Left  to  Herself    A  Novel    By  Jennie  WoodvUle. 

i2mo.     Extra  cloth.    ^1.50. 


"Such  a  spicv  mixture  of  ingredi- 
ents as  this  book  contains  cannot  fail 
to  make  an  exciting  story ;  and  as  the 
plot  is  well  conceived,  the  characters 
well  drawn  and  the  interest  well  sus- 
tained to  the  end,  without  degenerating 
into  the  melo-dramatic,  we  are  dis- 
posed to  recommend  to  others  a  book 
which  we  ourselves  have  found  capti- 
vating enough  to  bum  the  midnight 
SIS  ovtx"  —  Pkiiadel^hia  Evening 
uttetin. 


"  Amid  the  flood  of  mediocrity  and 
trash  that  is  poured  upon  the  public  in 
the  shape  of  novels,  it  is  the  pleasant- 
est  duty  of  the  critic  to  discern  real 
merit,  and  this  we  recognize  in  '  Left 
to  Herself.'  "—The  Phibdelphia  Age. 

"We  predict  for  it  a  large  sale  in 
this  section,  and  anticipate  tnat  it  will 
be  favorably  received  by  the  reading 
public  of  the  whole  country." — Lynch- 
burg KepuHican. 


Was  She  Engaged?    A  Novel     By  "  yonquil" 


l2mo.     Extra  cloth.    $1.50. 

*'  A  pleasant,  bright  and  sparkling 
Story." — Baltimore  Gauette. 

**This  entertaining  love  story  comes 
to  us  fresh  from  the  pen  and  the  press, 
in  clear,  readable  type  that  would 
make  a  far  less  enticing  work  pleasur- 
able. We  feel  assured  that  those  who 
are  fond  of  the  imrely  emotional  in 
character  or  literature  will  find  ample 
entertainment  from  its  pages.  The 
story  is  written  in  the  first  person,  and 
is  a  narrative  vastly  superior  to  a  great 
mass  of  so-called  novels.  There  is  not 
•  partide  of  rant  from  cover  to  cover. 


No  passion  is  'torn  to  tatters.*  No 
impossible  incidents  are  introduced, 
and  yet  the  interest  is  maintained 
throughout.  The  pure,  sweet  charac- 
ter of  Lucy,  so  well  displayed  against 
the  more  energetic  but  less  poetical 
Rosamond ;  the  sunlight  and  shadow 
of  these  two,  enhanced  by  the  dark 
and  designing  character  of  Sarah, 
combine  to  produce  prominent  impres> 
stoanV— Philadelphia  Press. 

•  Every  one  seems  to  be  going  fot 
•  Was  She  Engaged."  ''—Boston  Smhu" 
day  Evening  Ganette. 


Lost  and  Saved.    A  Novel    By  Hon.  Mrs.  Norton, 


Cloth.    $1.25. 

_  .    .  I     "  The  be«t  novel  that  Mrs.  Norton 

^ry  t9aAa£\^."—PhiM$^ia  Prtu.   I  has  vinXXnn*' -Baltimore  Gazette. 


New  Edition.     T2mo. 
**  Renarkably  well  written  : 


'1 


:i( 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  &»  CO, 


Eleonore,     A  Romance, 

.,  VON  RoTHENFELS,  author 
flower,"  etc.  By  Frances 
of  "  Lowly  Ways."  i2mo. 

**A  vivid  reproduction  of  German 
«ife  and  character." — Boston  Globe. 

"A  bright,  readable  novtV—PhU' 
mdtl^hia  Evening  Bulletitt. 


After  the  German  of  K, 

of  "  On  the  Vistula,"  "  Heath- 
Elizabeth  Bennett,  translator 
Fine  cloth.  Ornamented.  $1.5011 

"  The  plot  is  developed  with  remark- 
able skill." — Boston  Saturday  Ev* 
ning  Gautte, 


Tom  Pippin's  Wedding.    A  Novel,     By  the  Au- 

thor  of  "  The  Fight  at  Dame  Europa's  School."      l6mo. 
Extra  cloth.    $1.25.     Paper  cover.     75  cents. 


"  We  must  confess  that  its  perusal 
has  caused  us  more  genuine  amuse- 
ment than  we  have  derived  from  any 
fiction,  not  professedly  comic,  for  many 
a  long  day.  .  .  .  without  doubt  this 
is,  if  not  the  most  remarkable,  cer- 


tainly the  most  original,  novel  of  the 
day.' — London  Bookseller. 

"  It  is  fresh  in  characterization,  and 
is  as  instructive  as  it  is  entertaining.'* 
—Boston  Evening  Traveller. 


Irene,    A  Tale  of  Southern  Life,    Illustrated;  and 

HATHAWAY  STRANGE.    8vo.    Paper  cover.    35  cents. 

ten.     They  are  lively,  gossippy  and 
genial."— ^aA/m^r/  Gautte. 


•*  They  are  both  cleverly  written." — 
Ifew  Orleans  Times. 
"  These  stories  are  pleasantly  writ- 


Wearithome ;   or.  In  the  Light  of  To-Day, 

Novel.      By  "Fadette,"    author   of  "Ingemisco" 
"  Randolph  Honor."     i2mo.     Extra  cloth.     $1.50. 

*'  Written  with  exceptional  dfematic 
vigor  and  terseness,^  and  with  strong 
powers  of  TptnomXxoxJ*  —  Philadel- 
^ia  North  A  nurican. 

"It  is  written  with  vigor,  and  the 
characters  are  sketched  with  a  marked 
individuality." — Literary  Gazette. 

Steps  Upward,     A    Temperance  Tale,     By  Mrs. 

F.  D.  Gage,  author  of  "Elsie  Magoon,"  etc.    l2mo.    Extra 
cloth.    $1.50. 


A 

and 


**  The  style  is  clever  and  terse,  the 
characters  are  boldly  etched,  and  w'th 
strong  individualities." — Hew  C- It  an* 
Times. 

"Simply  and  tenderly  written.**— 
IVashington  Chronicle. 


•*  •  Steps  Upward,'  by  Mrs.  Frances 
Dana  Gage,  is  a  temperance  story  of 
more  than  ordinar]^  mterest.  Diana 
Dinmont,  the  heroine,  is  an  earnest, 
womanly  character,  and  in  her  own 
upward  progress  helps  many  another 


to  a  better  life."— JV/w  York  Inde^end' 
ent. 

"  We  are  sure  no  reader  can  but  en- 
joy and  profit  by  it"  — iV/tt»  York 
Evening  Mail, 


Minna  Monte,     A  Novel,     By  "Stella,**     i2mo. 
$1.25. 

**  A  domestic  story  ppssessinjg  great  I      "  We  have  in  this  little  volume  aa 
spitit  and  many  other  attractive  fea-    agreeable   storv,  plMsantly  told." 
tures.  *—St.  Louis  Re^liean.  \  Pittsburg  Gautte. 


A  ^ 

9, 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  /.  B,  LIPPINCOTT  &    CO, 


"fits  the  Fashion."    A  Novel,    From  the  German 

of  Adelheid  von  Auer.  By  the  translator  of  "  Over  Yon- 
der," "Magdalena,"  "The  Old  Countess,"  etc.  i2mo. 
Fine  cloth.    ^1.50. 


"It  is  one  of  the  most  charming 
books  of  the  times,  and  is  admirable 
for  its  practical,  wise  and  beautiful 
morality.  A  more  natural  and  grace- 
ful work  of  its  kind  we  never  Before 
read." — Richmond  Dispatch. 

"This  is  a  charming  novel:  to  be 
commended  not  only  for  the  interest 
of  the  story,  but  for  the  fine  healthy 
tone  that  pervades  it.  .  .  .  This  work 
has  not  the  excessive  elaboration  of 


many  German  novels,  which  make 
them  rather  tedious  for  American  read- 
ers, but  is  fresh,  sprightly  and  full  of 
common  sense  applied  to  the  business 
of  actual  \\it"— Philadelphia  Age. 

"  It  is  a  most  excellent  book,  abound- 
ing in  pure  sentiment  and  beautiful 
thought,  and  written  in  a  style  at  once 
lucid,  graceful  and  epigrammatic."— 
New  York  Evening  MaiL 


Dead  Men's  Shoes,     A  Novel,    By  y.  R.  Hader- 

mann,  author  of  "Forgiven  at  Last."     i2mo.    Fine  cloth. 

<|>2. 


"  One  of  the  best  novels  of  the  ^cii' 
ma.'* ^Philadelphia  Press. 

"  One  of  the  best  novels  descriptive 
of  life  at  the  South  that  has  yet  been 


published.  The  plot  is  well  contrived, 
the  characters  well  contrasted  and  the 
dialogue  crisp  and  natural."— A>//i- 
more  Gazette. 


Israel  Mort^  Overman.  A  Story  of  the  Mine,  By 
John  Saunders,  author  of  "  Abel  Drake's  Wife."  Illus- 
trated.    i6mo.    Fine  cloth.    $1.25. 

"  Intensely  dramatic.  .  .  .  Some  of        "The  denouement,  moral  and  artts- 
the  characters  are  exquisitely  drawn, 
and  show  the  hand  of  a  master."—' 
Boston  Saturday  Evening  Gazette. 

"The  book  takes  a  strong  hold  on 
the  reader's  attention  from  the  first, 
and  the  interest  does  not  flag  for  a 
moment" — Boston  Globe. 


tic,  is  very  fine."— A'ifw  York  Evening 
Mail. 

"  It  treats  of  a  variety  of  circum- 
stances and  characters  almost  new  to 
the  realm  of  fiction,  and  has  a  peculiar 
interest  on  this  account"  —  ^m/mi 
Advertiser. 


In  the  Rapids,    A  Romance.    By  Gerald  Hart, 

l2mo.     Toned  paper.     Extra  cloth.    I1.50. 


"Full  of  tragic  interest"— Cilwtfm- 
nati  Gazette. 

"It  is,  on  the  whole,  remarkably 
well  told,  and  is  particularly  notable 
for  its  resemblance  to  those  older  and, 
in  some  respects,  better  models  of  com- 


position in  which  the  dialogue  is  8ul>' 
ordinated  to  the  narrative,  and  the 
effects  are  wrought  out  by  the  analyt- 
ical powers  of  the  writer." — Baltimore 
Gazette. 


The  Parasite;   or,  Hoiv  to  Make  One's  Fortune, 

A  Comedy  in  Five  Acts.     After  the  French  of  Picard. 

I2mo.     Paper  cover.     75  cents. 

character,  we   should   suppose   they 
would  find  this  a  vaiii<>ole  addition  to 


"  A  pleasant,  sprightly  comedy,  un- 
exceptionable in  Its  moral  and  chaste 
in  its  langua^re.  As  our  amateur  actors 
we  always  m  pursuit  of  p^ays  of  this 


their  &*oc\i."— Philadelphia  Age. 


I 


•i! 


!«w«inii«w»»*wii*""**^^ 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  J,  B,  Lli^PINCOTT  &»  CO. 

Femyhurst  Court,    An  Every-day  Story,    By  thi 

author  of  "  Stone  Edge,"  «♦  Lettice  Lisle,"  etc.     With  nu 
merous  Illustrations.     8vo.     Paper  cover.     60  cents. 


^  "  An  excellent  novel  of  English  so- 
ciety, with  many  good  engravings." — 
Phiiadtlphia  Prtts. 


"An  excellent  story." — Boston  Jour* 
nal. 


Cross*  Purposes.    A  Christmas  Experience  in  Seven 

Stages.  By  T.  C.  de  Leon,  author  of  "Four  Years  in 
Rebel  Capitals,"  "  Pluck,  a  Comedy,"  etc.  With  Illustra- 
tions.     i6mo.     Tinted  paper.     Extra  cloth.     $1.25. 

*'The  plot  is  most  skillfully  handled, 
•ud  the  style  is  bright  and  sparkling." 
'"New  York  Commercial  Advertiser. 

"  The  reader  will  begin  the  nam- 


tive  without  a  desire  to  finisn  it  before 
he  has  laid  it  down  again.**— A>«» 
Vor/t  Times, 


Himself  his  Worst  Enemy ;  or,  Philip ,  Duke  of 

Wharton's  Career.    By  Alfred  P.  Brotherhead.    i2mo. 
Fine  cloth.     $2. 


*'The  storv  is  very  entertaining  and 
very  well  told." — Boston  Post. 
"  The  author  is  entitled  to  high  praise 


for  this  creditable  ^OTfl/U^^—PkUadol- 
phia  Ledger, 


In  Exile,    A  Novel,     Translated  from  the  German 

of  W.  VON  St.     i2mo.    Fine  cloth.    $2. 

*'  A  feast  for  heart  and  imagination.' 


"  No  more  interesting  work  of  fiction 
has  been  issued  for  some  time."*— ^/. 
Louis  Democrat. 


—Pkiladelpkia  Evenimg  BnUtiin, 


The  Struggle  in  Ferrara,  A  Story  of  the  Reforma-- 
tion  in  Italy.  By  William  Gilbert,  author  of  "  De  I'ro- 
fundis,"  etc.  Profusely  Illustrated.  8vo.  Paper  cover, 
$1.     Cloth.     $1.50. 

"  Few  works  of  religious  fiction  com 
"  ;y,  reality  anc 
forth  A  meri- 


r  CIV  wuiiwa  ui  iciijjiuusi 

pare  with  this  in  intensity,  reality  and 
WXMt'."— Philadelphia  Not  ' 


tan. 


"It  is  a  well-told  tfory  w'the  Re« 
formation  in  lXaXY"-^CoHgregati«suu 
Quarterly. 


Marguerite  Kent.   A  Novel,   By  Marion  W.Wayne^ 

l2mo.     Fine  cloth.    $2, 


•*  Marguerite  Kent,'  by  Mrs.  Mar- 
ion W.  Wayne,  is  an  American  novel, 
original  in  many  of  its  characters,  nat- 
ural in  dialogue,  artistical  in  descrip- 
tions of  scenery,  probable  in  its  inci- 
dents and  so  thoroughly  imbued  with 
individuality  that  the  story,  which  has 
taken  the  autobiographical  form,  has 
impressed  us  with  a  strbng  feeling  of 


reality  and  XxMiYk.'*  —  PkiladeiplUm 
Press. 

"Is  a  novel  of  thought  as  well  aa 
of  action,  of  the  inner  as  well  as  of 
the  outer  life."— A^rw  York  £ve-iMg 
Mail. 

"  The  plot  is  novel  and  Ingenious ** 
—Portland  Transcript. 


f 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  &*  CO, 


TJiTiOwn  Together,    A  Story,     By  Florence  Mont^ 

gomery,  author    of   "Misunderstood,"   "A  Very  Simple 
Story,"  etc.     i2mo.     Fine  cloth.    $1.50. 


"The  author  of  'Misunderstood' 
has  i^iven  us  another  charming  stor; 
of  child-life.  This,  however,  is  not  a 
book  for  children.  Adult  readers  of 
Miss  Montgomery's  book  will  find 
much  that  will  lead  them  to  profitable 
reflection  of  childish  character  and 
many  graphically  touched  terms  of 
childish  thought  and  expression  which 
will  come  home  to  their  own  experi- 
Ince." — London  Athenaum, 

"  A  delightful  story,  founded  upon 
the  lives  of  children.  There  is  a 
thread  of  gold  in  it  upon  which  are 
strung  many  lovely  sentiments.  There 


is  a  deep  and  strong  current  of  religious 
feeling   throughout  the  story,  not   a 

f>rosy,  unattractive  lecturing  upon  re- 
igious  subjects.  A  good,  true  and 
earnest  life  is  depicted,  full  of  hope 
and  longing,  and  of  happy  fruition. 
One  cannot  read  this  book  without 
being  better  for  it,  or  without  a  more 
tender  charity  being  stirred  up  in  his 
)MXtV— Washington  Daily  Chron- 
icle. 

"  The  characters  are  drawn  with  a 
delicacy  that  lends  a  charm  to  the 
book."  —  Boston  Saturday  Evening 
Gazette, 


Why  Did  He  Not  Die?  or^  The  Child  from  the 

Ebr&ergang.  From  the  German  of  Ad.  von  VoLCKHAUSEft. 
By  Mrs.  A.  L.  Wister,  translator  of  "  Old  Mam'selle's  Se. 
cret,"  "  Gold  Elsie,"  etc.     i2mo.    Fine  cloth.    5i-7S. 


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Dody  reads.  She  certainly  may  be 
said  to  possess  unusual  ability  in  re- 
taining the  peculiar  weird  flavor  of  a 
German  story,  while  rendering  it  with 

Eirfect  ease  and  grace  into  our  own 
nguage.      F"w   recently   published 
novels  have   received   more  general 


perusal  and  approval  than  'Only  a 
Girl ;'  and  •  Why  Did  He  Not  Die  -* 
possesses  in  at  least  an  ec^ual  degree 
all  the  elements  of  popularity.  _  From 
the  beginning  to  the  end  the  interest 
never  flags,  and  the  characters  and 
scenes  are  drawn  with  great  warmth 
and  power." — New  York  Herald, 


Aytoun,    A  Romance,    By  Emily  T,  Read,    Svo, 


Paper  cover,    40  cents. 

"The  fabric  is  thoroughljr  wrought 
and  truly  dramatic." — Philadelphia 
North  A  merican. 


"There  are  elements  of  power  in 
the  novel,  and  some  exciting  scenes." 
— New  York  Evening  Mail, 


Old  Song  and  New.  A  Volume  of  Poems,  By 
Margaret  J.  Preston,  author  of  "  Beechenbrook."  i2mo, 
Tinted  paper.     Extra  cloth.    $2. 

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grace  of  diction,  'Old  Song  and  New' 
IS  the  best  volume  of  poems  that  has 
yet  been  written  by  an  American 
woman,  whether  North  or  .^outh— the 
best,  because  on  the  whole  the  best 
■LStained  and  the  most  thoughtful."— 
Baltimore  Gazette. 

"  In  this  volume  there  is  workman- 


sh<|.  of  which  none  need  be  ashamed, 
whil  i  much  vies  with  our  best  living 
writers.  Strength  and  beauty,  scholar- 
ship and  fine  intuition  are  manifested 
throughout  so  as  to  charm  the  reader 
and  assure  honorable  distinction  to 
the  writer.  Such  poetry  is  in  no  danger 
of  becoming  too  abundant."— /'A/Z*- 
delphia  North  A  merican. 


Margaree.      A   Poem.      By  Hampden    Massofu 


•I 


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I 


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By  His  Own  Might    A  Romance.     Translated 

from  the  German  of  Wilhelmine  von  Hillern,  author  ot 
«♦  Only  a  Girl,"  etc.     i2mo.     Fine  cloth.     $1.75. 


"Some  of  the  scenes  are  power- 
fully wrought  out,  and  are  highly 
dramatic  in  their  construction." — 
B«UoH  Saturday  Evening  GatetU. 

"The  story  is  well  constructed.    It 


is  vivacious,  intricate  and  well  rat* 
tained.  ...  It  is  one  of  the  best  of 
the  many  excellent  novels  from  th* 
German  issued  hy  this  house.  "-—/VU&i* 
Evening  BuHetm. 


The  Daughter  of  an  Egyptian  King.    An  Histori'* 

cal  Romance.     Translated  from  the  German  of  Gkorgb 
Ebers  by  Henry  Reed. 

"  It  is  a  wonderful  production.  There 
have  been  ancient  novels  before  now, 
but  none,  according  to  our  recollec- 
tions, so  antique  as  ih\9."—Netu  York 
IVorld. 

"  The  plot  is  a  most  interesting  one, 
and  in  its  development  we  are  given  an 

Sergeant  Atkins.    A  Tale  of  Adventure.    Founded 

on  Fact.     By  an  Officer  of  the  United  States  Army.    With 
Illustrations.     i2mo.     Extra  cloth.     11.75. 

Indian    warfare,    'Sergeant    Atkins* 


I2mo.     Extra  cloth.     $1.75. 

accurate  insight  into  the  social  and 
political  life  of  the  Egyptians  of  that 
time." — Boston  Evening  Traveller. 

"It  is  a  valuable  contribution  to 
science  as  well  as  a  highly-wrouglU 
novel" — Cincinnati  Gaaette. 


"It  is  the  best  Indian  story,  be- 
cause the  truest  to  life,  that  we  have 
lately  seen." — Boston  Post. 

"  Apart  from  its  mere  literary  merits 
is  a  graphic,  well-told  and  spirited 
narrative   of  border  experience   and 


really  gives  us  all  the  facts  of  the 
Florida  war  which  are  necessary  to  a 
clear  understanding  of  its  origin,  prog- 
ress and  character." — Army  and 
Navy  Journal. 


The    Warden.    A  Novel.    By  Anthony  Trollope, 

author  of  "  The  Vicar  of  Bullhampton,"  "  Orley  Farm," 
etc.     i2mo.     Fine  cloth.     $1. 

Barchester  Towers.    A  Novel.    By  Anthony  Trol" 

lope,  author  of  "  Phineas  Finn,"  «*  He  Knew  he  was  K'ght," 
etc.     l2mo.     Fine  cloth.    $1.25. 

"These  two  novels  belong  to  the    veloped     with    much    realism    and 
admirable  Barchester  series,  in  which    humor." 
certain  phases  of  clerical  life  are  de- 

The  Scapegoat.    A  Novel.    By  Leo. 

per  cover.     $1.    Cloth.    $1.50. 

"  The  book  has  a  good  deal  of  life 
and  spirit  in  it." — Philadelphia  Age. 
"  It  is  bold  and  vigorous  in  delinea- 


humor."— JV.  Y.  Tribune. 


\2mo.    Pa^ 


tion,  and  equally  pronounced  and  ef- 
fective in  Its  moral."  —  St.  Limit 
Timet. 


Who  Would  Have  Thought  it  f     A  Novel.     i2mo. 

Fine  cloth.     $1.75. 

A  bright  and  attractive  romance,  with  an  interesting  plot,  .?«^  I  sustained 
throughout. 


.4 


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Tricotrin,     The  Story  of  a  Waif  and  Stray.    By 

"  OuiDA,"  author  of  "  Under  Two  Flags,"  etc.  With  Por- 
trait  of  the  Author  from  an  Engraving  on  Steel.  i2mo. 
Cloth.     $2. 

"The  story  is  fiill  of  vivacity  and 
•f  thrilling  vaXtxtAX."— Pittsburgh  Ga- 
9ttte. 

"Tricotrin  is  a  work  of  absolute 
power,  some  truth  and  deep  interest;." 
— A^.  V.  Day  Book. 


"The  book  abounds  in  beautiful 
sentiment,  expressed  in  a  concen* 
trated,  compact  style  which  cannot  fail 
to  be  attractive  and  will  be  read  with 
pleasure  in  every  household."— J'a« 
Francisco  Times, 


Granville  de    Vtgne ;  or.  Held  in  Bondage.    A 

Tale  of  the  Day.     By  «  Ouida,"  author  of  "  Idalia,"  "  Tri- 
cotrin," etc.     i2mo.     Cloth.     $2. 

"This  is  OMjS  of  the  most  powerful  I  present  century,  so  prolific  in   light 
»nd  spicy  works  of  fiction  which  the  |  literature,  has  produced." 

Strathmore ;  or.  Wrought  by  His  Own  Hand.    A 

Novel.     By  "Ouida,"  author  of  "Granville   de  Vigne," 
etc.     i2mo.    Cloth.     $2. 


*'It  is  a  rotnance  of  the  intense 
school,  but  it  is  written  with  more 
power,  fluency  and  brilliancy  than  the 
works  of  Miss    Braddon   and    Mrs. 


Wood,  while  its  scenes  and  characters 
are  taken  from  high  life." — Boston 
Transcri^. 


Chandos.      A  Novel.      By  "  Ouida,'  author  of 

"  Strathmore,"  "  Idalia,"  ctC.     i2mo.    Cloth.    $2. 

coloring  of  style  and  somewhat  exag- 
gerated portraiture  of  scenes  and  cha- 
racters, but  it  is  a  story  of  surprising 
power  and  interest." — Pittsburgh  Evf 
ning  Chronicl: 

Under  Two  Flags.    A  Story  of  the  Household  and 

the  Desert.    By  «  OuiDA,"  author  of  "  Tricotrin,"  "  Gran- 
ville de  Vigne,"  etc.     i2mo.     Cloth.    $2. 


"Those  who  have  read  these  two 
last  named  brilliant  works  of  fiction 
(Granville  de  Vigne  and  Strathmore) 
will  be  sure  to  read  Chandos.  It  is 
characterized  by  the  same  gorgeous 


*'  No  one  will  be  able  to  resist  its 
fiKination  who  once  begins  its  peru- 
mJ  "—Phila.  Evening  Bulletin. 

"  This  is  probably  tne  most  popular 
work  of  Ouida.    It  is  enough  of  itself 


to  establish  her  fame  as  one^  of  th« 
most  eloquent  and  graphic  writers  of 
fiction  now  living." — Chicago  youmal 
qf  Commerce. 


Puck.    His  Vicissitudes,  Adventures,  Observations, 

Conclusions,  Friendship  and  Philosophies.  By  "  OuiDA," 
author  of  "Strathmore,"  "Idalia,"  "Tricotrin,"  etc. 
l2mo.     Fine  cloth.     $2. 

"  It  sustains  the  widely-spread  popn- 
larityof  the  9}x'Ctiot."—Piitsburgk  Gm* 


**  Its  quaintness  will  provoke  laugh- 
ter, while  the  interest  in  the  central 
character  is  ki;pt  tip  unabated." — Al- 
iany  youmal. 


utU. 


i 


aEaBT^l 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  ^  CO* 


T 


Folle-Farine.    A  Novel.     By  "Ouida,''  author  of 

"  Idalia,"  "  Under  Two  Flags,"  "  Strathmore,"  etc.     i2mo 
Fine  cloth.    $2. 


"  Ouida's  pen  is  a  graphic  one,  and 
ige  after  page  of  gorgeous  word-paint* 
ing  flow  from  it  in  a  smooth,  melodious 
rhythm  that  often  has  the  perfect  mea- 
sure  of  blank  verse,  and  needs  only  to 
be  broken  into  line.  There  is  in  it, 
too,  the  eloquence  of  genius." — Phila. 
Bv«.  Bulletin, 


"This  work  fully  sustains  th« 
writer's  previous  reputation,  and  may 
be  numbered  among  the  best  of  hd 
works." — Troy  Timet, 

"Full  of  vivacity."— /^W*  Wxtym 
Ganette. 

"  The  best  of  her  numerous  storiet.' 
—  Vickshurg  Herald, 


Idalia,    A  Novel,    By  "  Ouida"  author  of  **  Strath-' 

more,"   "Tricotrin,"   "Under  Two   Flags,"   etc.      l2mo. 
Cloth.     $2. 


"  It  is  a  story  of  love  and  hatred,  of 
affection  and  jealousy,  of  intrigue  and 
devotion.  .  .  .  We  think  this  novel 
will  attain  a  wide  popularity,  especially 


among  those  whose  refined  taste  en- 
ables them  to  appreciate  and  enjoy 
what  is  truly  beautiful  in  literature." — 
Albany  Evening  Journal, 


A  Leaf  in  the  Stonn^  and  other  Novelettes,     By 

"OuiDA,"    author    of    "Folle-Farine,"     "Granville    de 

Vigne,"   etc.      Two    Illustrations.      Fifth   Edition.      8vo. 

Paper  cover.     50  cents. 

narrative — so  direct  and  truthful — pro- 
duces the  highest  artistic  effect.  It 
required  high  genius  to  write  such  a 
tale  in  such  a  manner." — Philadelphia 
Press, 


"  Those  who  look  upon  light  litera- 
ture as  an  art  will  read  these  tales  with 
pleasure  and  satisfaction." — Baltimore 
Casette, 

"  In  the  longest  of  these  stories, '  A 
Branch  of  Lilac,'  the  simplicity  of  the 


CecU  Castlemaine's  Gage^  and  other  Stories,     By 

"OuiDA,"  author  of  "Granville  de  Vigne,"  "Chandos," 
etc.    Revised  for  Publication  by  the  Author.    i2mo.    Cloth. 


ft 


Randolph  Gordon ^  and  other  Stories,    By  **Ouida, 

author  of  "Idalia,"   "Under  Two   Flags,"   etc.      i2mo. 
Cloth.     $1.75. 


*f 


Beatrice  Boville,  and  other  Stories,     By  "Ouida^ 

author  of  "  Strathmore,"  "  Cecil  Castlemaine's  Gage,"  etc. 
i2mo.     Cloth.     $1.75. 


**  The  many  works  already  in  print 
by  this  versatile  authoress  have  estab- 
lished her  reputation  as  a  novelist,  and 
these  short  stories  contribute  largely 


to  the  stock  of  pleasing  narratives  and 
adventures  alive  to  the  memory  of  al« 
who  are  given  to  romance  and  fiction.** 
•—New  Haven  Journal. 


T 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  ^  CO, 


Seed-Time  and  Ilatucst ;  or,  Diirbig  my  Appren* 

ticeship.     From  the  rhvtt-Dcutsch  of  Fiitz  Renter.     8vo 
Taper  cover,     ^i.     Extra  cloth.     $1.50. 

No  German  author  of  t'ne  present 
lime  is  m«)re  popular  in  his  own  coun- 
try tlwn  Reutkr.  rfe  is  pronounced 
by  a  competent  German  critic  to  be 


deservedly  "  the  most  popular  German 
writer  of  the  last  halt"  century.'' 

Kkutfk  is  especially  noted  as  tiie 
rare  humorist^  the  t^enuine  f^>et  and 
the/dscitiatifi,^  deliiientor  of  the  lives 
of  liis  Plati-Deutsch  neiglibf>rs,  and 
as  such  is  probably  more  beloved  than 
any  other  German  author  of  the  day. 
The  tale  in  question  is  one  of  his  best 
and  most  important  works,  giving  its 
readers,  with  its  other  entertainment 
and  profit,  a  charming  acquaintance 
with  tlie  quaint,  interesting  Platt- 
Deutsch  people. 

"  Fritz  Reuter  is  one  of  the  most 


popular  writers  in  Germany.  .  .  .  Tha 
charm  of  iiis  stories  lies  iu  tlu-ir  sim* 
plicity  and  exquisite  truth  to  Nature. 
He  has  *  tlie  loving  hcul'  whlcii  (!ar- 
lyle  tells  us  is  the  secret  of  writing; 
and  Reuter  is  not  graphic  meruly,  ho 
is  photiigvapliic.  Ills  cliaracli:rs  im- 
press one  so  forcibly  with  their  reality 
tint  one  need  not  to  be  told  tlioy  are 
portraits  from  life.  Even  the  villains 
must  liave  been  old  acquaintances.  .  .  . 
It  ('  During  my  Apprenticeship)  is  one 
of  the  best  of  Renter's  stories,  exhibit- 
ing his  turn  for  the  pathetic  as  well  as 
for  the  humorous." — New  York  Eve- 
ning Post. 

*'  It  has  a  freshness  and  novelty  that 
are  rare  in  these  times." — Philadel' 
phia  Evening  Bulletin. 


The  Sylvestrcs  ;  or.  The  Outcasts.    A  Novel, 
M.    DE    Betham- Edwards,    author    of   "  Kitty," 
Jacob,"  etc.     Illustrated.    8vo.     Paper.     75  cents, 
cloth.     $1.25. 

"  It  is  an  exceptionally  vigorous  and 
healthy  as  well  as  happy  tale." — Phil- 
adelphia North  A  merican. 

"  It  is  one  of  the  author's  best." — 
New  York  Home  yournnl. 

"A  capital  novel." — Pittsburg  Ga- 
zette. 


By 

•«  Dr. 
Extra 


"The  story  is  well  consiruc'ed,  and 
the  descriptive  passages  witli  which 
the  work  abounds  are  worthy  of  the 
highest  praise.  The  sketches  of  scen- 
ery are  painted  with  the  touch  of  an 
artist." — Philadelphia  Ev.  Bulletin. 


Myself.      A    Romance    of  New    England   Lfe, 

l2mo.     Extra  cloth.     $2. 


"  This  is  really  a  capital  story.    The 
characters  are  drawn  with  a  free  and 


and  the  plot  quite  unhackneyed."  — 
Boston  Courier, 


■harp  pen,  the  style  is  fresh  and  lively 

How  will  it  End?    A  Romance.    By  J.  C.  Hey- 

wood,   author  of  "  Herodias,"    "Antonius,"  etc.      i2mo. 

Extra  cloth.     ^1.50. 
••It  is  a  fascinating  novel,   which     that  should  be  widely  read."— W///6*/4 
nu!t  exert  a  good  influence,  and  one     Spirit  of  the  Times. 

Doings    in    Maryland;    or,    Matilda    Douglas. 
"  Truth  STRANGER  THAN  Fiction."     i2mo.    Extra  cloth. 

$1.75. 

It  is  a  very  perfect  story — simple, 
Doble  and  without  that  straining  for 
literary  effect  which   constitutes  the 


best  attainable  definition  of  the  sensa- 
tional."—.A'^w  York  Home  jfoumaL 


> 


y^ 


E^- 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  Sf  CO, 


'  I 


The  Old  Mam' sellers  Secret.    From  the  Gertnan  of 

E.  Marlitt,  author  of  "  Gold   Elsie,"  etc.     By  Mrs.  A.  L. 
WiSTER.     Sixth  edition.     i2mo.     Cloth.    ^150. 


"A  more  charming  story,  and  one 
which,  having  once  commenced,  it 
seemed  more  difficult  to  leave,  we 
have  not  met  with  for  many  a  day." — 
The  Round  Table. 

"  Is  one  of  the  most  intense,  con- 


centrated, compact  novels  of  the  day. 
.  .  .  And  the  work  has  the  minute 
fidelity  of  the  author  of  The  Initials,' 
the  dramatic  unity  of  Reade  and  the 
graphic  power  of  George  Eliot." 
Columbus  {fi.)  Journal. 


Gold  Elsie.    From  the  German  of  E.  Marlitt,  aiithof 

of  « The  Old   Mam'selle's  Secret,"  etc.     By  Mrs.  A.   L. 
WiSTER.     Fifth  edition.     i2mo.     Cloth.     $1.50. 

"A  charming  book.  It  absorbs 
your  attention  from  the  title-page  to 
the  end."— /"A^  Home  Circle. 


"A     charming     story    charmingly 
told." — Baltimore  Gazette. 


Countess  Gisela.    From  the  German  of  E.  Marlitt^ 

author  of  "Gold  Elsie,"  etc.    By   Mrs.  A.  L.  Wister. 
Third  edition.     i2mo      Cloth.     jS5i.5o. 

est  of  the  reader  from  the  outset"—' 


"  There  is  more  dramatic  po  ver  in 
this  than  in  any  of  the  stories  by  the 
Bame  author  that  we  have  read." — N. 
O.  rimes. 

"  It  is  a  story  that  arouses  the  inter- 


Pittsburgh  Gazette. 

"  The  best  work  by  this  author."— 
Philadelphia  Telegraph. 


Over  Yonder.     From  the  German  of  E.  Marlitt, 

author  of  "  Countess  Gisela,"  etc.     Third  edition.     With 
a  full-page  Illustration.     8vo.     Paper  cover.     30  cents. 

ant  of  the  merits  of  this  author  will 
And  in  it  a  pleasant  introduction  to  the 
works  of  a  gifted  writer." — Daily  Sen- 
titt-el. 


•' '  Over  Yonder '  is  a  charming 
roveiette.  The  admirers  of  '  Old 
Mam'selle's  Secret '  will  give  it  a  glad 
reception,  while  those  who  are  iguor- 


The  Little  Moorland  Princess.     From  the  German 

of  E.  Marlitt,  author  of  "  The  Old  Mam'selle's  Secret," 
"  Gold  Elsie,"  etc  By  Mrs.  A.  L.  Wister.  Fourth  edi- 
tion.    i2mo.     Fine  cloth.     ^1.75. 

up  to  its  balmy  influence." — Chicago 
Evening  Journal. 


"  By  far  the  best  foreign  romance  of 
the  season." — Philadelphia  Press. 
"  It  is  a  great  luxury  to  give  one's  self ' 


Magdalena.      From  the   German   of  E.  Marlitt^ 

author  of  "  Countess  Gisela,"  etc.    And  The  Lonely  Ones 

("The   Solitaries").     From   the  German  of  Paul  Heyse, 

With  two  Illustratior.-j.     8vo.     Paper  cover.     35  cents. 

"We  know  of  no  way  in  which  a     either  of  these  tales." — IndianapolH 
leisure  hour  may  be  more  pleasantly     Sentinel. 
whiled  away    than    by  a  perusal    oi 


I  i 


1 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  ^  CO. 


Poems.     By  Julia   C.  R.  Dorr,  author  of  "  Sibyl 


Huntington,"  etc.     i2mo. 

"  No  American  poet  has  been  more 
extensively  copied  than  has  this  sweet 
songstress  of  the  green  hills  of  Ver- 
mon  t. " —  Troy  Press. 

"  Her  outpourings  in  verse  have 
soothed  and  elevated  many  hearts,  and 


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One  of  the  sweetest  and  most  in- 
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spiring,    a 
poets." — i 


Legends  and  Lyrics.    By  Paul  H.  Hayne. 

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the  taste  of  the  scholar,  while  it 
soothes   and    elevates    ihe    generous 


heart.  .  .  .  Some  of  his  songs  will  be- 
come at  the  South  what  Lon^fei- 
low's  poems  have  long  been  ux.  the 
North,  and  in  England,  'household 
words.'  " — Charleston  Courier. 


Southern     Voices.      Poems  by    W.  H.   Holcombe, 

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Life,"  etc.     i2mo.     Tinted  paper.     Extra   cloth,  gilt  top. 

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fe-2lings  which  nothing  but  rhythmic 


measures  and  poetic  language  can  ex- 
press."— Golden  Age. 

"Taste  and  tenderness  are  the  pre- 
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— Philadelphia  Age. 


Christmas  is    Coming,  and  other  Poems,  for  the 

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The  Ruined  Statues,  and  other  Poems.    By  Louise 

Billings   SpauiJing.      i2mo.    Toned  paper.     Extra  clo^h, 
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Coming  to    Christ      A   Poem.      By    William   S. 

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Philadelphia  and  its  Environs,     A  Profusely  Illus^ 

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Interest,  embracing  Fairmount  Park.  With  nearly  One 
Hundred  Engravings.  Beautifully  printed  on  toned  paper. 
8vo.     Paper  cover.     50  cents. 

work  that  gives  so  full  and  so  accurate 


*'  It  gives  an  accurate,  double-page 
map  of  the  city,  and  contains  eighty- 
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of  art,  of  th^  handsomest  public  build- 
ings and  private  residences  in  Phila- 
delphia, and  also  of  various  attractive 
views  in  Fairmount  Park.  The  de- 
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an  account  of  the  advantages  offered  by 
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as  a  seat  of  manufacturing  industry." 
— Philadelphia  Ledger. 

"  Very  interesting,  both  for  its  excel- 
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"A  most  valuable  guide." — Latt' 
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"  Philadelphians  will  be  instructed 
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Wild  h'eland ;  or^  Recollections  of  Some  Days  and 

Nights  with   leather   Michael.     By  B.  Donbavand.     8vo. 

Paper  cover.     35  cents. 

An  original,  spirited,  witty  and 
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and  manners  of  a  section  of  Ireland 
but  little  known  to  tourists. 


"  These  racy  pictures  of  Irish  life 
and  Irish  wit  cannot  fail  to  have  an 
extended  sale." — Philadelphia  Eve- 
ning Bulletin. 


The   Voice  in  Singing.     Translated  from  the  Ger-^ 

man  of  Emma  Seiler,  Member  of  the  American  Philosophi- 
cal  Society.  New^  edition,  Revised  and  Enlarged.  i2mo. 
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all  interested  in  any  way  in  the  vocal 
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cal Times. 

*'  It  is  meeting  with  the  favor  of  all 
our  authorities,  and  is  a  very  valuable 
work.  To  any  one  engaged  in  teaching 
cultivation   of  the  voice,  or   making 


singing  a  study,  it  will  prove  an  ef- 
ficient assistant." — Loor.tis's  Musicai 
yoiirnnl. 

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who  love  music  for  its  own  sake."— 
Philadelphia  North  A  nierican. 


\. 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  &>  CO, 


Stories  for  Sundays,   Illustrating-  the   Catechism, 

By  the  author  of  "  Little  Henry  and  his  Bearer."     Revised 

and  edited  by  A.  Cleveland  Coxe,  Bishop  of  Western 

New  York.     Illustrated.     New  Edition.     i6mo.     Extra 

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books  are  more  plentiful  now,  but  we 

Jesus.     ''A  Man  Approved  of  God:'— The  Apostle 

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doubt  whether  there  is  any  improve- 
ment on  Mrs.  Sherwood's  sterling 
stories  for  the  yowng."— Lutheran  O^ 
server. 


'n  tone ;  in  many  passages  it  is  ex- 
^eeJingly  eloquent." — New  York  In' 
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The  Resurrection  of  the  Redeemed,  and.  Hades.     By 

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ian. 


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resurrection  of  the  bodies  of  redeemed 
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muti 

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PUBLICATIONS  OF  J,  B.  LIPPINCOTT  b>  CO, 


The  Life  of  Charles  Dickens.     By  yohn  Fotster, 

author  of  "  Life  of  Goldsmith,"  "  Life  of  Landor,"  etc. 
Vol.  L,  1812  to  1842.  With  Two  Portraits  from  Steel  and 
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won  fame  for  the  subject  of  the  biogra- 
phy. .  .  .  Now  for  the  first  time  we 
seem  to  have  learned  the  secret  of  the 
individuality  belonging  to  all  of  Dick- 
ens's really  great  novels.  ...  In  all 
the  history  of  literature  and  of  literary 
training  there  is  nothing  more  touch- 
ing, more  interesting  and  more  instruc- 
tive. .  .  .  Mr.  Forster's  book  is  sug- 
gestive enough  to  open  a  new  chapter 
in  literary  criticism.  .  .  .  Whether  in 
the  way  of  biography  or  of  criticism,  he 
has  done  his  work  admirably ;  and 
when  the  book  is  completed,  we  shall 
have  a  Life  of  Dickens  worthy  of  the 
man  and  of  the  enduring  creations  of 
his  brain." — London  Daily  News. 

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entrusted  to  more  loving  hands,  a  more 
genial  writer  or  a  more  faithful  and 
accurate  historian."  —  Pkiladclphiix 
Evening  Bulletin. 

"Of  all  men  living,  Mr.  Forstef 
is  the  best  qualified  to  be  Charles 
Dickens's  biographer." — Philadelphia 
Press. 

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more  satisfactory  record  of  Dickens's 
career  can  be  looked  for  in  our  genera- 
tion."— London  Standard. 

"The  author  of  this  life  has  fairly 
earned  the  eulogy  which  Charles  Dick- 
ens bestowed  upon  him  when,  years 
ago,  he  wrote :  '  I  desire  no  better  as- 
surance for  my  fame,  when  my  personal 
dustiness  shall  be  past  the  control  of 
my  love  of  order,  than  such  a  biogra- 


pher   and    such 
Morning  Post. 


a  critic."  —  London 


Essays  of  an  Optimist.     By  yohn   William  Kaye^ 

F.  R.  S.,  author  of  "  History  of  the  War  in  Afghanistan," 
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monly good  writing."  —  New  York 
Evening  MaiL 


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Kaye's  book  may  find  its  way  into 
many  an  English  household.     It  can- 
not fail  to  instill  lessons  of  manliness.* 
— IVestmittster  Review. 


Light  of  the  Worlds  and  other  Poems  and  Hym?ts, 

By  Eminent  Writers.     Beautifully  Illustrated.    4to.    Super- 
fine paper.     Extra  cloth,  full  gilt.     $5. 


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twilight." — New  York  Independent. 

"  It  is  a  quarto  volume,  exquisite  in 
paper,  typography  and    bindmg,  con- 


taining a  number  of  poems  of  a  re- 
ligious character  by  living  English 
poets.  Each  poem  is  illustrated,  and 
the  designs  are  all  very  original  and 
beautiful.  Some  of  them  are  worthy 
of  being  separated  and  framed. "- 
Philadelphia  Evening  Bulletin. 


Poems.      By   Lucy  Hamilton    Hooper.       With   a 

Portrait  from   steel.     l2mo.     Toned   paper.     Extra  cloth. 
Gilt  top.     j^i.75. 


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cends to  very  lofty  and  noble  regions 
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PUBLICATIONS  OF  J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  &-  CO. 


Life  and  Writings  of  Alexander  jfanies  Dallas.    By 


his  son,  George  Miiflin 
Uncut  edges.     ;^5. 

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Life  of  jfokn  J.  Crittenden.     With  Selections  front 

his  Orrcspondence  and  Speeches,     Edited  by  his  daughter, 


Mrs.  Chapman  Coleman. 
Royal  Svo.     Toned  paper. 

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"It  is  full  of  instruction  to  young 
America."  —  Washington  Morning 
Chronicle. 

•'  Since  the  Revolutionary  period, 
our  country  has  produced  no  man 
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"This  biography  of  him  is  by  his 
daughter,  Mrs.  Coleman.  It  connects 
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illustrating  them  by  a  simple  narrative, 
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With  Two  Portraits  from  Steel. 

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are  stated  without  comment  or  illustra- 
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any  country  have  lived  so  free  of  just 
reproach.  Few  have  been  fotuid  so 
uniformly  magnanimous  and  patrioHc 
in  the  whole  course  of  their  public 
lives.  This  edition  contains  two  vol- 
mnes  in  one  excelleiuly  printed  octavo. 
It  ought  to  be  in  every  library,  for  the 
work  covers  a  long  and  inipoitaut 
period  of  political  history,  and  exhibits 
a  character  that  men  of  all  parties 
agree  to  honor  as  a  noble  example  of 
an  American  patriot  and  statesman." 
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Memoir  of  Ulric  Dahlgren.     By  his  Father,  Rear- 

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"  We  heartily  recommend  it  to  the 
notice  of  the  reading  public." — Wash- 
ington Sunday  Gazette. 


Life  of  George  Read,  a  Signer  of  the  Declaration 

of  Independence,  with  a  Selection  from  his  Correspondence, 
and  Notices  of  some  of  his  Contemporaries.  By  his  grand- 
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"  The  work  is  enriched  bv  very  many  commendation  to  the    author.      Tha 

inecdotes,  descriptions  and  sketches,  letters  form  a  large  part  ot  the  whole, 

There  are  many  excerpts  from  recon-  and  express  the   opinions  ot  coniem- 

lite  sources,  particularly  in  the  chap-  poraries  on   men    and  f|L>est.oiis,  and 

*rs  on  Congress  ;  and  the  whole  work  ^v^\^^%:' -Philadelphia  North  A  men- 

s  one  of  not  less  value  to  the  public  can. 
lian  honor  to  its  subject,  and  is  a  great 


'  ^\ 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  J,  B.  LIPPINCOTT  &-  CO. 


Variorum  Shakespeare.     A  New  Vario7^iin  Edition 

of  Shakespeare.     Edited  by  Horace  Howard  Furness, 
A.M.    Vol.  I.    Romeo  and  Juliet.    8vo.    Superfine  toned 


paper.     Fine  cloth,  uncut.     {^7.50 

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W illiam  Shakespeare." — Fhiladelphia 
Press. 

"  The  admirable  scholarship,  with 
the  sane  and  delicate  critical  sense 
which  marks  this  specimen  volume  of 
a  new  variorum  edition  of  Shakespeare, 
would  make  the  affectionate  study  of 
its  pages  by  a  young  scholar,  as  far  as 
English  literature  is  concerned,  almost 
equivalent  to  a  liberal  education. 
Rarely  has  a  piece  of  literary  labor 
been  issued  frcjm  the  American  or 
English  press  which  indicates  so  pro- 
found a  knowledge  of  the  subject,  so 
wise  and  thoughtful  an  appreciation  of 
the  necessities  of  the  occasion,  and 
such  refinement  and  justness  of  taste 
in  the  selection  from  diverse  and  re- 


rnote  quarters  of  the  matter  most  per- 
tinent to  the  critical  and  antiquarian 
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The  Life  of  Henry  Johi  Temple ^  Lord  Palmerston 

With  Selections  from  his  Diaries  and  Correspondence.  By 
Rt.  Hon.  Sir  Henry  Lytton  Bulwer,  G.C.B.,  M.P., 
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